A Paper and String
by TheVanishingSpectacles
Summary: 13. AU. She taught him how to love, how to laugh, how to regret, and how to cry. This is a story about a bully and the girl who changed his life.
1. O N E

**Disclaimer**: For once and for all, Higuchi Tachibana owns Gakuen Alice. I am just another fan whose imagination has gone haywire.

**Summary**

Wounded by a tragic incident, Mikan went back to Japan to forget and live a new life with her family. But when she realized that she made a wrong move, the flaws they have carved in her were way deeper than she could have imagined.

**Foreword**

I'll be straightforward. This isn't a happy story. What await the characters are their fateful days that none of them anticipated for. If you are seeking for comfort, then this is not the story for you. However, if what you need is something that will help you realize that not all stories are meant to delight every reader, then please, proceed.

**A Paper and String  
**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
-Mayday Parade_

_I dedicate this story to Chapter 163 of Gakuen Alice.  
Natsume Hyuuga, don't you die on me. :(_

* * *

**O N E**

* * *

My step-brother said that his school was one of the better ones found in the heart of Tokyo. Our parents said that I would have a wonderful experience there. They promised me that. So I believed. In my mind I said, maybe my hometown would understand me the best.

Or so I thought.

.

.

The plane I was riding landed on a Sunday, when a fine rain was falling through the gray sky on the approaching end of autumn. Japan had a distinct smell . . . of flowers, I guessed, compared to stifling stench of smoke in the town in Paris where I spent my childhood until yesterday. Wrapped in my red coat, I walked under the overcast sky with both of my hands clutching the straps of my medium-sized white backpack. I flew alone and walked alone to the confinements of the airport of Tokyo International Airport, where my brother was happily waving his hand towards me as he spotted me in the crowd. Came surfacing from the swarm of people who were also waiting, were our parents in their excited faces.

This was what I had failed to see for quite a long time. My grandmother from my mother's side favoured me the most out of all her grandchildren. When I was eight, she asked my mom if I could stay with her there in Paris. She said that I looked like the exact replica of my mom, and that before she died, she wanted to be the one to see me grow up. It was a selfish request of her, but both my mom and me loved her wholly, grandmother Sakura who suffered a certain heart ailment. Besides from the profound affection I had for her, it was partially guilt that made me agree to her wish. Why would I decline a wish of a dying loved one?

The memory of her in her frailest state surged back into my memories—not that I forgot it because I would never—and the sorrow for losing her embraced my whole body and mind. Fighting the urge to cry in the middle of a not-so-foreign land to me, I pushed a smile on my face and waved back to my brother and parents.

"Mikan, I missed you so much." Throwing her arms around me and a kiss on both of my cheeks, my mom squeezed me when I reached them.

Inhaling the rose fragrance she brought, I closed my eyes. "I'm back, mom."

Tsubasa, my step-brother who was two years older than me, replaced my mom when she pulled back. He had grown taller, as expected, as I stood under his chin. "Welcome back, Mikan."

I nodded, taking in the warmth he was emitting from his firm muscles. He released me and my step-father, Hiro, gave me a hug and a kiss on top of my head. He looked like an older version of Tsubasa. "I'm thankful you have arrived safely. Japan would be so lucky to have you."

I threw my hands around his back and giggled. "That sounds like I'll be engaging in a war, dad."

He ruffled my hair and smiled as he drew back. "Who knows?"

Tsubasa took my purple stroller and flung his arm around my shoulder. "Shall we?"

"Yuka, let's go." Dad said as he placed his hand on the handle of my cart where the rest of my bags and boxes were placed. Nodding, mom clung to his arm and spared a smile for me and Tsubasa.

"I'm happy, Hiro, very much. To see both of our children here makes me feel so . . . accomplished. Our family is now complete."

Amidst the buzz floating above the airport, hearing mom's statement made my heart swell in happiness. A happy family was what I needed the most right now, so I could dwell on what despairing moments I had gone through in Paris without having to feel the same, and instead, hold on to the hands that were always willing to help me stand up.

* * *

Our house was twenty minutes away from my new school.

The sun was up in the sky, its rays stretching on towards the corners of the vast space above. The gray roads were covered in dried leaves in red and yellow as I ambled my way to the school. I left the house ten minutes earlier so I had the time to inhale the same rich fragrance of Cherry Blossoms that paved the sidewalks I had taken by the time I took a left turn, where if I follow straight, I would find my new school – Alice Academy.

It was a scene far different than what I would usually find myself into when I was in Paris. Both were cities, but this road to my new school was like a strange world from the real Tokyo. It was a wonderful place where the wind would whisper every now and then, hopes of a new world.

"Good morning," I greeted to the guard standing in his post. He greeted me back the same couple of words I gave him with a smile.

The school building, a five-story white-walled edifice, stood in the center of the widespread area occupied by the whole school. There were a lot of students already walking through the cemented road towards the front doors of the school, wearing the same uniform I wore. It seemed that everyone knew everyone, because I stood out. Not in the famous way, but they were looking at me weirdly and whispering words I made out and concluded that they were surprised and curious, _mostly curious_, to find out who the new students was – me.

I hung my head low at this, which was really making me feel so uncomfortable and out of place. I never attracted so much attention like this way back. I was just a normal Japanese girl who didn't grow up in her hometown.

"Hey, watch where you're going."

Looking up as I felt a hand forcefully shoved me by my shoulder, I met the blackest of the blackest eyes I've ever seen. Acquainting me was a scowl on the face of the owner, a bald headed lad who stood about half a foot taller than me.

"Aren't you listening? Move out of the way!" He shoved me once again to the side, and this was when I realized he was with a group of people who carried a certain air that tempted me to turn my back and run for my life. They were five, consisting of three boys and two girls.

When I was out of their way, they continued walking to the building. A girl with an ebony boy-cut hair slightly veered her head to me and I saw her vacant amethyst orbs. Her lips were pulled into a smirk as she daintily placed her fingers on the shoulder of the guy beside her, clearly taller than her, and whispered something into his ears. The guy shrugged, pushed his hands inside his pockets, and the girl's eyes left me.

"Is she a new student?" I heard the guy with a short, cropped golden hair that was brushed at its finest to the left side. He was asking the guy who shoved me.

"Maybe, who cares really Yuu?"

So that guy was named Yuu. He held his tie with his forefinger and thumb, and fixed it. "I'm just curious."

I knew who and what kind of students they were. I wouldn't be blind or naive to how their system worked. There were a lot of them in every school, in every town, in every country. Kids who thought they had the power to rule over something, when in truth, they were nothing but a bunch of troublemakers who haven't yet met the terrors of life. Clearly, they were the one who thought they could hammer that down to others whom they deemed lower than them.

_Bullies_.

And I'm quite afraid I was already targeted.

.

.

When I arrived in our classroom with my homeroom teacher, Narumi-sensei—he said he'd liked to be called by that—, I was introduced to a class where the five people I came across earlier belonged. The guy who shoved me and the girl whom I recognized to be the other girl was seated together, the Yuu-guy was sitting on the center of the third row, and the remaining two ebony haired girl and boy were sitting beside each other at the last row.

"Guys, this is Mikan Sakura. She is a transferee from Paris. From now on, she will be in our care so I hope you'll treat her _very_ well." Emphasizing on the word 'very', Narumi-sensei clapped his hand the same time, though he had a rather anxious and unsure smile on his face.

I didn't smile; just nodded and squeezed my lips into a thin line as my eyes swept the entire yellow-coated room where about forty students sat on their seats, and only half took their time to scrutinize me.

_Tsubasa, I thought this was a good school._

"She will be sitting beside," Narumi paused to take a quick but keen gaze around the room, "you, Yuu-kun."

The Yuu-guy glanced at the bald-headed guy and they gave each other a disturbing smile. I felt nervous at this.

"Be glad to, Narumi." Yuu-guy said, and he directed a confident smile to me.

Narumi-sensei clapped his hands again and pushed me lightly to go to my assigned seat. Obediently, I gulped and walked slowly to the chair beside Yuu-guy.

"Good luck." I heard someone whisper as I passed the second row. I looked back, but found no one looking at me, their backs stiff as ice and yet, it seemed that it could bend so easily like a dying stem.

As I sat on my chair and suffered having to stay away from the back of it because Yuu-guy's arm was draped on the back of my/our two-people long chair, I could feel a warm sensation on the back of my head, like someone was staring at me. I wanted to know why, to turn my head, but my heart, which was throbbing so fast stopped me. I didn't know why, but being so near to this Yuu-guy scared the heck out of me. This feeling—it was the same feeling that wrapped me frozen in _that_ day in Paris. I could feel it, the dread of being washed away in a nonexistent world and removed of every happy feeling.

His eyes stroked my head to toe, his emerald sparks lingering as if he was marking certain areas in my body and claiming them his.

"So, how do you find Japan, Mikan-chan?" Moving closer towards me, he murmured those words and I couldn't help but to feel harassed.

Something . . . something in his voice induced a much bigger fear in me. I wanted to ignore his question, but doing that wouldn't be favourable in my position right now. "It's nice."

He tipped his lips closer to my right ear and blew an apathetic breath. "Boring."

_Tsubasa, you said this was a good school. But why am I being beleaguered? Why am I starting to sense that you have discarded the truth?_

Clenching my fists hidden under the laid cloth of my skirt, a wave of shattering nostalgia came over me. I said, told myself, I'd change. I would be brave.

But I'm still afraid – so afraid that life never stopped targeting me.

* * *

_A/n:_ A new story from me. After reading Ch163 of GA, I couldn't stop putting my ideas into words. I know that all of us are deeply wounded by this recent update. I don't even know if I can finish this story. I just want to publish it so I'll have a peace of mine, yet again. What do you think of this story? Tell me by giving a review. :)

_**TheVanishingSpectacles **_  
_©2012_


	2. T W O

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
- Mayday Parade_

* * *

**T W O**

* * *

A thin line of red hung on the distant sky before everything turned dark. A short sentence on the one hundred and fiftieth page of my book was left unread when Tsubasa's voice shrilled from the first floor of our house, calling me away from the book I have indulged myself almost three hours now.

Reluctantly, I put my red bookmark on the page and stood up.

"What is it now Tsubasa?" Tapping my foot rather impatiently when I got out of my room and stood by the staircase, I saw Tsubasa waiting by our front door.

He flashed a smile at me and shoved his hand into his pocket, fishing out his keys hanging by a thin silver ring. He twirled it by his forefinger; metals clunking with each other produced a jingling sound. "I'm going out."

I rolled my eyes and took about two steps down the stairs. Leaning on the wooden rails, I flashed him a sarcastic smile and raised a brow. "I can see that. Waiting for them to leave?"

Them, meant our parents.

He slyly grinned at me as he brought his hand down. "They already left, you know? Like half an hour ago."

"They have? Wha—how?"

He nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for? Isn't Misaki going to murder you if you're late?" I jogged down the stairs to him. Misaki was his girlfriend. They have been going out for a year and a half and _counting_ –according to my brother. Misaki was a very pretty girl, with an extreme impatience. But she's one of a kind and the first time I met her, I liked her a lot. She carried this air of certainty and contentment with what she had. It would be hard to miss her.

"I know she will. But you don't really think I'll leave my sister alone in the house just like that, do you? Are you thinking I'm that kind of a brother?" Tsubasa flicked my forehead before ruffling my hair.

"Know what I'm thinking? You're actually late so you're using the protective brother upfront. That way, Misaki will lessen the attempts to kill you. Am I right or am I right?" I stated as I removed his hand.

The doorbell rang two times, cutting Tsubasa off from what he was going to say. Pinching the bridge of my nose, his grin turned wider. "You're partially correct. But, wait here. I'll go get him."

"Him?"

It was no use. Tsubasa had gone outside the second I repeated his last word in a questioning manner. You know that moment when there's a perplexing feeling that you're getting, sending chills running from the back of your neck to your spines and tingles electrifying the tips of your fingers? Well that was what I was feeling at this precise moment. It was scary. Tsubasa was being scary.

So I tried to do what I thought I should do—run back to my room and hide. But I was too late. The second I turned my back and lifted my feet off the ground, a hand clutched my wrist and pulled me back. I closed my eyes and readied myself for the impact, but only the scent of aftershave drifted to my senses as my back hit a firm chest.

"Not so fast," Tsubasa's voice above me rang. Aware that there was another person before me, I slowly raised my head to look at Tsubasa with only one open eye.

"What's this?" Gritting my teeth, I asked.

Cupping both of my cheeks, Tsubasa smiled down at me and planted a peck on my forehead. "Little sister, you'll be fine in the hands of the boy over there. I'll have to go now. Misaki, remember?" He then pushed my head forward so I could look at the person who was watching us.

And then I shrieked.

Quickly hiding behind Tsubasa, I pointed at the lanky frame standing before Tsubasa. His eyes were clearly expressing his opposition to this current situation that my brother had caused. "Why is he here?"

The 'he' I was talking about ran his fingers through his ebony wisps and breathed calmly. He rolled his eyes at me.

Despite this unenthusiastic reaction between us, Tsubasa was actually grinning like he won the lottery. He held me by shoulders and pushed me towards his visitor.

"Come on now guys, be nice to each other." He took both of our hands and made us shook each other's. Inwardly, I cringed as our palms met. His hand, obviously bigger than mine, was cold, just like how he was looking at me now.

What did I do?

"Great! Mikan, I'll leave you to him. I'll be back before, uh, midnight?" Tsubasa pinched my cheeks as he turned to me. However, his features hardened when he faced 'him'. It was as if he turned into something else and the aura he was giving made things feel awkward.

"Don't you dare try anything funny to my sister, Natsume. Don't disappoint me twice. Get it?"

I wasn't blind, nor oblivious to the tension Natsume was feeling. I could feel it, too. Truthfully, how Tsubasa spoke at this time scared me; I could feel the goose bumps. It took Natsume some seconds of silence before he answered with a short, "Yes."

Both of us stood by the door while Tsubasa disappeared to the night. No, he's not a vampire. The heck.

Pursing my lips, I nodded to no one and made sure the gate was locked. When I got back, Natsume was still standing on where I left him, but he was busying himself with his mobile phone. He's probably texting his girlfriend, or his _friends_. Having to think of this caused me to grit my teeth. Friends, my ass. They're just a bunch of kids who have nothing better to do, that's why they direct their so-called boredom to the people whom they think were unfortunate.

Before I knew that I was already clenching my right fists beside me, I felt his crimson eyes bore directly into me. I hated it. How scrutinizing he looked at me from head to toe.

For a moment there, I forgot this was my own home. They—he didn't own this place.

I avoided his eyes and walked past him, heading to the kitchen. I heard the front door close and footsteps following my trail. Even though I was furious to this kind of set up—which I still didn't know what—Tsubasa put us up, I still wouldn't forget the right way to treat visitors. While taking out a box of cake my brother bought this afternoon, with a malicious grin on plastered on my lips, Natsume took a seat by the counter.

"Natsume Hyuuga," Natsume's eyes shot upwards towards me when I unconsciously muttered his name under my breath, rather rudely, actually.

"What?" He croaked.

"So why are you here?" Ignoring his question, I placed a plate with a slice of strawberry cake and a cold glass of water before him.

"The same to you."

I took a step backwards from the counter separating us and crossed my arms in front of me. "This is my house."

An amused expression crossed his face and a smirk appeared. "Not so quiet, are we now?"

"Why are you here?"

Lifting the fork from the plate, he took a small piece of the cake and ate it; his eyes never left me. I was truly baffled why a guy like _him_ was doing inside my house. Specifically why Tsubasa invited him in here when he was certainly informed what this guy and his friends had done to me.

"It's not like I wanted to be here. It's just that unfortunately for me, you're his sister."

I glared at him for his answer.

He took another bite and when he's done swallowing it, he took a swig of the water I served him. "It's just bad timing."

I figured out he wouldn't give me the answer I required for, and that staying here with him would only cause me another shot of what I had gone through with them. Besides that, I was only clad in my blue night gown under my white robe. I had to get away, or at least, change to a thicker clothing. Albeit I knew how much he hated me, he's still a guy. And with an infamous reputation, that was.

"OK. I'll leave you to your own business then," I spun my heels and started walking away from him.

Being in the school for almost a month now, I had heard from my brother himself, what kind of relationship he had with Natsume Hyuuga. I had witnessed it, too. He respected my brother, to the point that when he and his friends would be doing something degrading to the other students—like me—and Tsubasa with his senior friends would arrive at the scene, you could just see how Natsume would stop in an instant, and his friends would follow him instantly, too. Ever since they found out that Tsubasa was my brother, they kind of lessened their aims at me.

Tsubasa was two years older than us. Sure he was notorious for the contrasting bad boy look and kind nature. Sure he was rumoured to go to Tokyo U and I certainly would attest that this was true. Sure girls were still after him even though he'd proclaimed he was going to marry Misaki and have a soccer team of children with her, in which he got a punch from her. Sure Tsubasa was the ideal guy a girl would want and an ideal guy to be jealous of. But despite those, I still couldn't any reason why the cocky Natsume Hyuuga had this kind of deference for Tsubasa.

So what was he doing here? Why did Tsubasa say I was going to be in this guy's care for tonight?

I was already on the first step of the stairs when someone took hold of my elbow and spun me to look at him. "What?"

Natsume glared at me and he tightened his grip. "Where are you going?"

"To my room. Where else?"

I tried shaking his hand away from me, but he just tightened his grip further. "You can't."

"Why?" I looked at him, captured by his crimson eyes. It was just alluring and even though I hated him, I still couldn't deny how captivating they were.

"Because," his eyes swiftly moved to the corner before they hardened back to me.

"Because Tsubasa told me to babysit you."

And I just died.

* * *

I didn't know why but the way he said that, how at that time, he looked awkwardly innocent, something in me lurched and I laughed so hard. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the sofa, watching Harry Potter and Order of the Phoenix, and eating popcorn with Natsume Hyuuga. His eyes were trained on the telly, while his hands were programmatically taking pieces of cheese popcorn from his bowl.

"What is it now?" he asked; seeming not to like that the least he wanted now was to be interrupted from watching.

Shrugging, I gulped down my soda. "You like Imai, don't you?"

This question of mine seemed to have taken him aback and he stopped eating as he put down his bowl. With a cool face, he said, "It's none of your business."

"Well I was curious," I answered back; all signs I was giving told him that I was _very much_ curious. And all signs he was giving told me he was sticking to what he just had said – it's none of my business. But what could I say? I was half-mad, and yet, half-amused.

Natsume finally told me why he was here. My brother, whom he looked up to, dispensed him the sentence of babysitting me for the night he was out. This was where my anger came in – when I recalled how his friend, Mochu, ordered their lackeys to spill a bucket full of water and ice cubes on me while I was getting my things from my locker. Natsume and Hotaru Imai (the girl I was talking about) were standing not very far from us. Mochu did this because I refused to do his homework. With his friends, Tsubasa arrived at the scene and saw me drenched in cold water. He hurriedly addressed to me and Misaki was with him. Almost all of my things got wet, too, and this caused me further to decide not to attend the classes. The laughing coming from everybody else in there stopped immediately. When we passed by Natsume and Hotaru, I saw Tsubasa shook his head at Natsume and the latter avoided his eyes.

Now why was I being amused right now? Well this was because it wasn't every day I could feel as if I got a grip on one of the people who bullied me and as if his life depended on me. It was obvious that Natsume liked Hotaru Imai. They're close to each other, that was why I couldn't understand why they're not together-together. I meant, I could understand—even if I wasn't that intelligent—why no one would dare to ask Imai out. Aside from the fact that every student in the academy could see and feel that Natsume practically had his hands on her, Imai was a girl of something else. She's the perfect female version of Natsume Hyuuga and it was scarier to think that she's much more of a threat than him.

"So why?"

"Why what?"

I scratched the tip of my chin and sipped again from my soda can. Harry and Sirius were now looking at the Black's family tree. "Why aren't you two together-together?"

I could feel the eyes of Natsume on my skin as he answered. "Have you always been this nosy?"

"You wouldn't want to know. Besides, I despise you."

"Equally as you are. And I pretty much have figured that out ever since your first day," this had caught my attention and I looked back to Natsume.

"My first day...? As much as I remember, no one really paid any attention to me. So that's strange, especially coming from you."

Natsume shook his head and I chuckled.

"DoyouthinkI'veanychanceonHotaru?" he murmured.

"Wait a minute, that's fast. If you could just repeat what you said, I might understand. You know?" raising a brow at him earned me a heavy sigh which escaped his thin lips smoothly.

"Forget it," he gulped down his own can. "Why do I even have to tell you anything?"

I shrugged as I got to my feet and stretched my arms upward. Turning my head to look at him, I told him what I had been thinking at the back of my mind, before I left for the kitchen for a glass of water. All this soda was making me feel sick.

"I think you're not that terrible of excuse of a person. And who knows? Maybe we'll even be friends in the future."

* * *

_A/n_: I'm back on writing. My summer classes are officially over, meaning I can write and update my stories again. :") By now, I assume that you know that this story concerns bullies. Tell me what you think about this story by giving a review? Would you please? XD

**Just to address a thought: Why is Mikan calling Natsume and Tsubasa by their first names only?**  
- Mikan grew up in another country. The reason why she's addressing him with his name only and not with his last name, which in Japan, she's supposed to, is because first, refer to the first sentence; and second, well read the first reason. :P Oh, and she doesn't call Tsubasa with the suffix '-nii'. It's also because she's not used to Japan's honorifics. According to me. So yeah, don't think she's that disrespectful when it comes to Japanese culture. Or a hypocrite.

_**TheVanishingSpectacles **_  
_©2012_


	3. T H R E E

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**THREE**

* * *

And we did. Well, not exactly friends, but you could call it something in between acquaintances and friends.

After that night, Natsume, sort of, thought I was someone whom he could confide to. I didn't know when he decided that thing and I didn't really care. I barely spoke to anyone in school and I never minded anyone's business. I came to school to learn. The hope of mine to belong to something had been long extinguished since my first week in this school. So, I built this wall around me and auspiciously, everyone was in their right mind to ignore me and constrain themselves outside my indiscernible wall.

Unimaginable and curiously as it was, the day that I realized that Natsume believed I was no longer a stranger to his mysterious life was when he visited me in our home one rainy Saturday. It was only Tsubasa and me inside since our parents would be gone for the weekend to attend Hiro's high school friend's 25th wedding anniversary in Nagoya. I wondered how Hiro was in his high school days, as well as my mom. When I asked about this matter to Tsubasa, he told me that his dad was the captain of the swimming team. I also asked about how come it was his friend's 25th wedding anniversary already. Tsubasa was just eighteen and Hiro married his first wife or rather Tsubasa's mom a year less than two decades. Meaning if it was already his friend's silver anniversary, then his friend have entered marriage very young. I wasn't mocking this, but it was just bugging me and making me curious. That's all.

"I seriously hope you're not here to ask me about my girlfriend, Natsume. In case you know, I heard the rumours," Tsubasa opened the door a foot wide, his hand curled around the knob as he gave a stern look at Natsume. Tsubasa just finished his shower, which he took when he got home from his morning jogging dripping wet. You should've seen him. He looked like an aggravated chick.

I was sitting on the sofa, Haruki Murakami's book "South of the Border, West of the Sun" in my grasp when Natsume knocked on the door. The first thought that flashed in my mind was that I was correct that Tsubasa forgot to lock the gate on his desperate hurry to get inside and have a change of clothes. And due to that, a man or a woman of unknown identity had finally broken into our house and was out to get our things. Just as that thought was being formed in my mind, Tsubasa came running down the stairs and I gave him the look which says, 'Open it'. Nothing mysterious, actually.

And he did.

"Which rumour?" standing before Tsubasa was Natsume, who shared the same look that I've seen on Tsubasa's face earlier. They both possessed the look of an soppy, aggravated younger rooster.

"Don't lie now. The rumour that you are out to steal my girlfriend," my brother stated accusingly.

"And what if I am?"

I couldn't see it, but I was pretty sure Tsubasa had by now, made a huge gasp that I've always found funny. His mouth would open so wide that you'd thought he had sucked all the air around you. I could only guess how Misaki dealt with that. I've interviewed Tsubasa about this and he told me Misaki never found it weird. I presumed that maybe they really did love each other—not saying that I thought they didn't and all of this was just a joke—because they accepted each other's imperfections. Love's all that, huh?

Natsume's hand then patted the left shoulder of Tsubasa. "Relax. I'm here for your sister – my classmate. Can I come in?"

Tsubasa held the door wider, but still narrow enough for Natsume to impossibly make his body through. "Are you denying the rumour or are you actually denying that the rumour is just a rumour?"

With the book covering half of my lower face, I laughed. This was Tsubasa being rude because of jealousy.

"I don't go for older women. Your sister can attest to that," that Natsume-son-of-a-hiccup said with such a confident tone. Tsubasa turned his head to me a shot me his brotherly-authority-look.

"Fine," Tsubasa stomped his foot and finally let Natsume in. He rubbed his cheek with his palm, which I think was fairly rough with his millimetre short facial hairs. "I'll be in my room, if you need me Mikan." The volume of his voice gradually dropped as he passed me by on his way upstairs.

Meanwhile, from my previous position of laying my back on the sofa—which was what I always do whenever I was reading—I sat up straight and pulled out my bookmark from somewhere in the book and inserted it in the page I was currently in. After putting my book on the table, I shifted my look to Natsume and greeted him a 'hello'.

He released his bottled-in breath and edgily ran his fingers through his damped hair. Glancing at him from head to toe, I smiled. "Wait for me."

Hurriedly, I jogged up to my room and grabbed a fresh towel from my drawer. When I got back to Natsume, he was still standing on the doormat. Patient and stiff.

I handed him the towel and he nodded his head. I was about to say something when Tsubasa's door opened and he came down to give Natsume a clean white T-shirt and a pair of jeans in a paper bag. "I assume you know where the bathroom is," he said with a smirk and softly slapped Natsume's arm.

The younger of the two nodded again. Before I could fully take in that the two were being friendly with each other, Natsume had gone to the bathroom to change his clothes and my good-of-a-brother was back to his room, doing what I didn't know.

After a few minutes or so, Natsume walked back to me, his wet clothes in his paper bag and Tsubasa's clothes fitting him exactly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having you here again, Natsume?" I playfully asked.

Instead of answering me, he sat down to an adjacent couch and placed the paper bag on the floor. "What are you reading?"

I flicked my eyes at him then to my book. "Haruki Murakami. Why are you asking?" I retorted.

"Nothing," he pushed himself on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

"Why the sudden visit?" I asked him again, this time more directly to the point.

He opened one of his eyes. "I got bored."

The rain continued to fall outside, the winds humming a heavy melody. In the distance, I could hear the faint clapping of thunder that followed a zigzagged flash of lightning I failed to see. I was probably occupied by the sudden visit of Natsume and the scenes that ensued after. Then I wondered about the birds and the squirrels and all the butterflies. Where did they conceal themselves in this weather detrimental to their bodies? They didn't have concrete houses like mine, nor a mattress stuffed with cottons.

"—a piano," I heard Natsume's trailing voice. I looked at him, "What? I didn't catch that."

A crease formed between his mediocre-shaped eyebrows. It was like a ripple of wave in such a peaceful sea. "There's a piano. Who plays?"

About three meters north to me, there's a rounded corner with a tall window that exhibited the garden outside. In that rounded corner, stood a black and shiny piano that my parents bought just recently.

"Me?"

Natsume arched his eyebrow—like a storm surge—and made it clear with his eyes that he believed me but decided to pass on. "I didn't see it before."

"My parents bought it a week ago," my eyes moved to my fingers tapping the cover of the couch. I didn't know how, but it must be that cold because I could feel the wind blowing on the hem of the curtains, faintly shaking them in sense that it was strangely warning me about something. Whatever feeling this was, I shook it off.

Natsume just nodded his head, now completely uninterested with the topic he brought himself. He craned his neck to look outside. This time, I wondered out loud if he had been thinking of the same concern I had when I looked at the continuous rain fall outside the confinements of our house.

"Do you think about the birds and the squirrels and the butterflies, too, Natsume?" he gave me what's-wrong-with-you-look with his eyebrow raised. I pursued. "Are you worried about them?"

"You're odd." I guessed that's what he wanted to say to me. But he didn't. Instead, he answered, "None of my business." But honestly, I didn't know. I thought they were pretty the same thing and he just chose to go on a detour.

I stood up and went over to the piano. I could feel Natsume's eyes on me as I took my steps unhurried. "You know, when I was in Paris, my grandmother had a student way back when she was younger, and he taught me how to play the piano," pulling out the piano stool, I slowly ran my fingers against the keys and sat. "My grandmother was a pianist. She never made it to the top, but she was an amazing pianist."

"I honestly don't know why you are telling me these things," Natsume said, from his seat.

"It doesn't matter. The thing is, I just miss my grandma."

"Didn't she keep you away from your family here?"

I had no clue how Natsume knew about that; he probably he heard it from Tsubasa. Although I wasn't facing him, I nodded twice and pressed my finger on a key. "You don't mind if I play something?"

When Natsume laughed lowly, I thought my heart stopped. I never knew something like that could sound so . . . different. In all honesty, I didn't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me and I didn't know how to react properly towards it. So I did what I thought I should do best to ease the gales inside me – play.

The moment I started moving my fingers against the smooth keys of the piano, I found myself inside my own bubble. Each tone I was able to produce came to life as a droplet of rain falling against the supple roof above me (only I can see), trying to penetrate the span of solitude I locked myself in. The sloshing sounds were heavy and through the transparent membrane, there were waves of green, blue, and purple. When I went fast, the droplets tumbled sharper. And when the melody was turning into its pacified form, I could only hear the sounds of the beads cascading down from the gray clouds. They deafened me.

Inside the bubble, as I carried on playing, memories of the past spun like a never ending thread. My grandmother was standing beside me. And she was smiling. And I knew she was happy because I played the piece well. Everyone else in the room applauded and smiled, too, at me. Then my fingers stopped, for a second or two, as I went back to the reality. This time, my fingers synchronized with the droplets of water as they pitter-pattered. And then, they were gone.

When I raised my head, I was dumbfounded to see Natsume standing beside the piano, staring at me.

I watched as his lips contorted into forms, making incoherent noises, until his eyes held no more surprise. "You . . . You're the one playing this?"

Glancing at my hands, I rested them on my lap, and looked again at Natsume. "What do you mean?"

"You're the one playing this piece in school, aren't you?" I searched for any signs of teasing on his face, but he was dead serious. "Answer me."

Nervously, I moved my head up and down. What's wrong with him? "I may have been, yes. Why?"

"I guess it's safe to say that you're not the only one listening to yourself play," he patted the cover of the piano and smirked.

I couldn't understand why at that moment, I felt a buzz on my head and my skin was being warm despite the cold weather. However, I understood what Natsume meant. He had heard me play this piece at school, when I thought everyone had gone home and I stayed in the music room to get a hold of a piano. He had been listening to me all along and I never knew. And he never knew it was me.

Until this day.

* * *

_A/n_: I'm glad that I've finally updated a chapter for one of my stories after so long. The truth is that after learning about what happened that other stories were being deleted, I got scared of updating any of my stories. I felt like if I do, they will be deleted, too, like the others. I seriously hope not. I know that you are thinking, "What kind of chapter is this?" but this is really it. Give me a review and tell me what other thoughts you have. Thank you. :")


	4. F O U R

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**FOUR**

* * *

There were always two sides of stories.

My example would be when George from Grey's Anatomy, exploded when his two brothers were asking him to pick a car, Thanksgiving Day. That morning, he was taken by his father and two brothers to go hunt for a turkey. He was able to shoot one, despite his brother's taunts that he wouldn't be able to pull it off. While celebrating after that, one of his brothers accidentally shot their dad's behind, leading them to go to the hospital and have George take a look at it. So what happened was, George, who couldn't stand being called "Georgie" and being bullied by his brothers, flew into a rage and told every car and everything his brothers have talked about since before. His brothers left after. That was George defending himself that they shouldn't be calling him "Georgie" and that it wasn't about him not knowing anything about cars, he's just too tired hearing the same thing over and over again and that he's a doctor and he did things.

The other side of the story was when Mr. O'Malley, George's father, explained to him that he had hurt his brothers, that they weren't bullying or insulting him. His father said that while one of his brothers worked at a postal and the one I couldn't remember, George was there, being great and being someone they couldn't reach to. George, compared to his brothers, was intelligent and had skills that made him an individual different from his family. He told him that his brothers' redundant questions were their way to reach out to him. He said that while George was thinking that his brothers were tormenting him with nonsensical questions, his brothers and his father were just trying to call out to him. This was the side of the story that his brothers' repetitive and tiresome interrogations about cars weren't at all, meant to do him harm, but their own small way of reaching out and getting a small portion of their George's attention.

Ever since then, after I saw that episode and swore to myself that I'd always listen and weigh the two sides of every story, I practiced being open minded and always putting forth my reasons. But sometimes, we didn't mean to violate some rules we had set up.

So when I found Natsume standing before me under that overcast sky and humid weather, with a faintly red left cheek and expression I couldn't really fathom how he could pull off, I immediately stood up and placed my arms around him. We weren't supposed to be friends in school—because I didn't want him to commit a social suicide—but I didn't think that following that rule in a time like this was necessary.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," I said in a very concerned tone. Natsume didn't say or move or anything, he just breathed above my right shoulder. To be honest, I didn't know what to say other than that. Here was my newly made friend, dumped by the girl he liked most, and he's not the outspoken type. Enlighten me? "I'm very, very sorry."

We stayed in that position for almost five minutes—I couldn't really tell—and each time he exhaled an air of negativity that if only it had a color, it could be seen clouding around us, I tightened my arms around him, feeling that he would fall to the ground and he'd just slip away.

"If there's anything . . ." When I heard Natsume gritting his teeth and felt his arms stiffening, I didn't know how to continue. He was mad and heartbroken and enraged. I cupped both of his cheeks and made him face me.

"Natsume, look at me," his eyes were still avoiding mine, but I persuaded. "Look, Hotaru was stupid. She let you go, not even thinking anything straight and even giving you that big red mark. I know you had your heart freshly cut into smithereens, but spare me some dignity and let me help you. You're my friend and I just knew you, so if there's any kind of therapy that works on you, let's go do that."

Calling Hotaru stupid for dumping Natsume was the only side of the story I was going to listen to. She had hurt my friend and publicly humiliated him for her own sick enjoyment. I believed there aren't any grounds for listening to whatever kind of drama—if she had—she would later on use in order to justify her bitchy acts.

I was there in the cafeteria, deserted from the rest of the students, when everybody heard someone shouted. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK ARE YOU DOING HYUUGA?" It was Hotaru Imai. She was clutching her arm and just before it, Natsume's hand was hanged in the air. The thing was, Hotaru never raised her voice and if there was one person she would call by name, it was Natsume. Never have I heard her speak louder than the volume she always used, because she didn't need to. There was no need to exert more effort because everyone listened whenever she spoke. So a fake illusion was created. But it was different this time; she had to shout at Natsume. Because they were both stubborn. Even if Natsume heard her, he wouldn't listen. Because I just knew that whatever reason Natsume had, he was making sense.

Natsume lowered his hand to his side and clenched his fists. It was like the rest of the student body was watching a TV drama. "You have to stop . . ."

—_SLAP!_

In a blink, Hotaru's labour-unsoiled palm and fingers came across Natsume's left cheek, leaving everyone of us gaping at the scene. A conspicuous red mark of her hand slowly began to appear on his cheek.

"You don't own me, so don't order me around." Hotaru's cold voice sent a shiver in everyone's body, including me. We all felt the same, but I knew that what Natsume felt was nowhere near what we had. I couldn't watch this anymore, so I left the cafeteria, knowing that my presence wouldn't really affect the scene.

I didn't know how Natsume found me or this place, but it made me feel a bit better that he came to me. Because I knew the Natsume that none of his so-called friends in this school knew.

As he stared at me, I could see his eyes slowly coming back to life. In relief, I was about to remove my hands from his face when he placed his hands against on each and kept my hands on his cheeks. Dubiously, I arched a brow at him. "Hmm?"

"Let's go for a drive tonight," said Natsume who seemed to have let out all the exhaustion inside him.

"Huh?"

"The therapy," he breathed tiredly, "I want to drive."

"Oh, I see. Yeah," I nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I feel like zooming against the wind tonight!"

* * *

The engine hummed peacefully until it stopped. Tsubasa was sitting on the couch, reading a sports magazine. "What time will you be home?" He didn't look up when he asked. Clearly, his attention was divided between me and whatever article or photo he was keenly looking at.

I removed myself from the window and rushed to Tsubasa, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm wearing this super cardigan you gave me. I'll be fine," I said, clutching the buttoned turqoiuse cardigan that reached to my thighs that Tsubasa got me last Monday.

He finally raised his head and looked at me warily, his blue eyes not wavering. He didn't say anything, though.

"Look," heaving a sigh, I took the magazine he was reading, mindful enough to put my finger on the page he was currently at, and sat on the center table facing him. "I can—will take care of myself. Don't worry about me too much."

Tsubasa took my free hand and placed his palm against mine. "Mikan, you're my sister. I cannot . . . God, just promise me you'll be home before 12 or I will—" he stopped his sentence and a deeper frown made its way on his face.

"Got that. Before 11, I'll be back. OK, I'm going now. Bye." I gave him his magazine back and went to the door. "Tsubasa, please remember to lock the door."

Outside our house, I met Natsume, who was coolly leaning his back on his car, and we quickly loaded ourselves in his car. It took us about ten minutes to reach our first destination.

"What do you want?" He asked me, his eyes glancing up and down at the brightly lit menu stand outside the drive thru of McDonalds.

"Umm, I . . ."

While his right arm was gripping his steering wheel and his other hand sitting languidly on the window sill, he flicked his eyes towards me from the menu. The light from the outside reflected on his eyes. "What?"

Pushing my bangs to the side, I tried circumventing his eyes and held on to my seatbelt. "Promise me you won't laugh at me or anything close to that, Natsume."

There was a nod from him, then a complete silence, and then me telling him, "I rarely ate fast food chain meals. My grandma, you see, wasn't particularly fond of having me eat what she called—untrue foods."

"Oh. And by rare you mean?"

"How many times?" he nodded. "My fingers are enough to count them. So, uh, will you just order for me?"

The right corner of his lips tipped up and he nodded twice. There have been a lot of nodding, I noticed. He slowly drove to the first window of the drive thru cashier and flashed a superior grin at me, before informing the girl of our orders. I watched not too conspicuously as Natsume did the talking, and the girl inside the booth meticulously wrote his orders on her white pad of paper, while trying not to be so obvious of checking out Natsume. Okay, so she was trying to be apparent of it—with all the flirty smiles and purposefully leaning on the window to have a better look at Natsume—not until I titled my head to look at the inside of the booth and way past to the inside of the place, and she saw me, her eyes widening for about two seconds and then shrunk to their normal size.

When they finished, he drove to the next window and waited for our order.

"She was—,"

He finished my sentence, "–flirting with me."

Our order finally arrived and Natsume paid for it. "I'm guessing you ordered fries," I scrunched my nose at the strong smell of hot cheese fries that easily invaded Natsume's car. "I'm sorry, Natsume, can we open the windows?" I was feeling a little nauseous with the smell and all.

"Yeah," he pushed a button and the windows pulled themselves in. We were back on the road then, specifically not knowing where to go.

"We'll just drive around the city?" I asked; opening the brown paper bag where the coke drinks were in. I took mine and handed Natsume his. He waved his hand, so I placed his drink in the holder placed in between us.

"We'll drive around the city," he repeated. "I guess let's just find a parking lot and eat there." He reached to take some fries, which I handed him to make it easier.

"Let's just drive for a while," I suggested. Placing my elbow and forearm on the windowsill just like how Natsume did it before, my eyes feasted on the people walking by on the streets and the stores of different sorts inviting anyone who would want to take a look at what they offered. I could see couples and loners and group of friends either chatting, and laughing lively, or just quiet, as if there weren't any other people around them. The darker face of Tokyo revealed itself to me as I stayed watching everyone and anyone longer. Few trees stood strong on some places and these trees were probably saved from cutting because they were needed for an indigenous cosmopolitan decoration. I didn't know. There were anime shops, restaurants adored by its patrons and restaurants without patrons at all, boutiques with bald and wigged mannequins, bars and clubs, and everything Tokyo could offer.

I retracted myself from these things when the car halted. "Red light," said Natsume.

"Oh. Natsume, if you don't mind, can we go to a little less populated area?"

Natsume took this chance to drink his cola. "I'll come up with something."

"OK, thanks." About two cars in front of us, the green light above blinked. All other cars following our direction began packing the road again, lights and honks hovering everywhere. While, Natsume drove smoothly past the lanes, avoiding contact with nearing cars, and moving on its own pace that neither was too fast nor too slow. The tall buildings came into our view and I could finely say that there's a slight change in the air in here. Adults, wearing their corporate attires, from work emerged from the entrance and exit doors of their workplace. Their tired faces were washed away quickly as they compelled their wobbly legs and stiff backs away from their jobs and careers. They were just happy to get out.

I didn't know how long we were touring around the city. Natsume, then, turned to the left and exited the main road. There weren't many cars in this area, compared to where we were before. I noticed the wind got colder, as if we were entering a different world, as he drove straight and proceeded to a smaller road. Trees beside the road sprouted one by one, clouding the scene, especially on our right, with their dense heads—I could hardly define the color green as they blended perfectly with the evening. About five minutes have passed, the line of trees in our left started thinning and the smell of the air became different. The sound from afar was low, but I knew what it was.

Natsume decided to increase our speed, and the wind blew harder as the car drove its way against the force of the wind. We were alone in this part of the country and it felt great to be the only people experiencing this moment right now. The silver railing on our left was cut and when I took a closer look, under the clear sky and the fair glow of the moon, the rough thin waves of the sea benignly caressed the shoreline. The waves crashed in a melodious tempo and their sound got louder and louder as we drove closer to them. The beach widened at some point and it was that area when Natsume veered to the left and parked the car not far from the road and approximately four meters away from the sea.

"This is beautiful," I said when we exited his car. I removed my sandals and held them, while my feet enjoyed the smooth feeling of the sand under us. Natsume, on the other hand, brought our food and a square, black mat.

* * *

In between us, the mat with our food lay on the sand perfectly still. I picked up a fistful of sand and watched them closely falling from my hand. The truth was I was nervous.

"Do you want to talk about it? Natsume?"

He crushed his plastic cup and threw it on the mat. His crimson eyes glistened as his eyes shot up to the moon. "You can ask. But I'm a guy, so don't expect."

His jaw clenched. Deep down, I knew that he was angry. "I'm really sorry . . . about everything. I thought there's nothing standing between you two. I thought it'd go perfectly well."

Natsume scoffed and bent his knees like they were mountains. "She's a selfish woman. She won't hesitate to get something she wants and that counts for something she thinks unnecessary. Hotaru can discard you from her life, if she wants. And that's the problem, I am not what she wanted," he dug his fingers under the sand. When he found it, he raised his hand and looked a couple of seconds at a shell he found, and then threw it to the sea without doubt. "Actually, I confessed to her last night, but she said—,"

I found myself a peach coloured shell and held on to it tightly, while I uttered what I thought Hotaru would say to Natsume, "You're not in love with me, you have trapped yourself in the notion of my dexterity. You don't know me at all." And I threw my shell back to the sea.

I suddenly felt guilty when a sliver or pain crossed his face. "I shouldn't have—," I apologized, but Natsume was quick to close his emotions. "You scare me sometimes."

"How—!"

"Scary," he flashed a smirk on me, and then added, "but cute."

I didn't know how visible my blush was, but my head grew warm and big when he said that. I quickly turned my head to the opposite side and slapped my face for suddenly flushing at Natsume's words.

"Hey, don't take it to heart."

I turned to him and glared at the surprised with a hint of preventing-himself-to-laugh face, which was actually cute, but I wouldn't actually say in person. "Then who is it who said, '_But I'm a guy, so don't expect'_, and then ended up saying more than what he thought he would say? Acting all tough huh?" I mimicked his voice and laughed after.

"H-hey!"

"Whatever Natsume," I stuck out my tongue and made silly faces.

"Yeah right, girl who likes being called cute." He crossed his arms and grinned.

"Shut up," I took footwear and walked back to the car.

Natsume called me out as he cleaned up the mat, and then ran after me. Like nothing happened, he draped his arm across my shoulders. "Let's get you home."

* * *

On our way home, we talked about a lot of things: the stupid system of our school, animes like Fairy Tail and Beelzebub (he insisted inserting some of his perverted mangas in our conversation), when's the showing of some movies we were waiting for, who sucked better at card games, my surprise humungous, pink bunny stuffed toy present to him for his birthday, my neighbour Mrs. Kawashima and her dog, him having the best freedom anyone would envy, and some other things I forgot. About fifteen minutes away from my house, I told him to play some songs and he did, and I sang to my heart's content. He said, it was a good choice that we opted to close the windows now because if we left them open, the people would certainly light their torches and run after us.

"People don't light their torches because one, they don't have torches, and two, they prefer using flashlights. Well, except in the Olympics."

Natsume snorted, "Jesus! Just stop singing."

"OK," I said, before I stole a glance at him, and then I started singing again. In the end, he didn't have any choice. I confidently thought he was quite glad actually.

I had sung about four songs until he stopped the car when we reached our house.

"Goodnight, Natsume," I got down from his car and smiled.

I was about to enter the gate when Natsume rolled the window down and leaned from his seat. He was rather stiff and his face was a bit ashen. "Thank you, Mikan, for everything."

I stepped back to him and rested both of my arms on the window sill. "Thank me later, so you'll owe me big. Drive safely, Natsume." I ruffled his hair—in which he scrunched his facial features—and this time, moved backward so he could roll the glass up. He nodded at me and waved, then drove away. I waved at the distant shadow of his car.

When I got inside the house, Tsubasa was sitting on the same couch he was at when I left. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and pointed at my wrist watch, "10:52 PM. See?"

Tsubasa stood up and placed his arm around my shoulder, and we both ascended on the stairs. He walked me to my room. "I will thank you every day, whatever you say. I don't want to owe you anything."

I reached up and rested my palms on his shoulders. "It's just how the world goes, Tsubasa-nii. I'm not used to Japanese honorific, but I have to get used to. In the future, in another circumstance, you will have to get used to something else. We don't have any choice. Goodnight." I closed the door after that. I knew I had hurt my brother and this really pained me, but I couldn't do anything else. I wouldn't choose to lie.

* * *

_A/n_: So far, this is my most favorite chapter in this story. Review please? :)


	5. F I V E

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**FIVE**

* * *

As our shadows fell longer on the ground we walked on and the days fleetingly passed by, the last month of autumn graced everyone with its presence. Everything hastened in a complete blur in my memory, except for the times when I stayed awake at night, enjoying the gradual lowering of the air's temperature, and busily planning Natsume's birthday with the celebrant himself.

In school, I still had it bad. You'd think because Hotaru Imai humiliated Natsume Hyuuga in the cafeteria last time, his social circle would be decreased to zero. But no, and I never thought it that way either. Natsume was still Natsume, and his so-called friends never left him. What happened between him and Hotaru, it was like just a simple crease on a cloth. They could fix it with simple ironing. But what I really thought about this, what I felt the reason things got back to normal, was because they were in a certain circle. Their own circle. In that circle, it didn't matter if one made a wrong move, they could easily forget what happened. They have polished their reflexes.

"What are you looking at?" A couple of meters away from me, Mochiage and his underlings stood, leaning on the wall and blocking people from passing through. Some students of course, were able to pass through without worry. However for people like the guy he just asked and shoved to the wall, (Mochiage was a buff guy and he's strong), like me, and the others like us, we were rest assured not to make our way through them without being shoved or taunted or without them not doing anything to us.

The rest of his friends laughed at the sight of the guy who was now kneeling and picking up what was left of his broken eyeglasses. Poor guy.

I knew it was a coward thing for me to do, not to help the guy who shared the same state as me as he scurried away from them, but being valiant was not one of my characteristics. The only thing I could do was silently thank that the he was finally out of their trap.

Finally gathering my stuff from my locker, I saw a blonde head pass by. It was Yuu. He was met by Mochu with a high-five.

"Let's go," Mochu told him, shoving his hands inside his pockets.

It was three minutes before our next class would start. This was my cue. Better late than having to pass them through.

But it seemed that Yuu saw me standing there and could have easily guessed what I was thinking. So with a sly grin on his face, his appearance so deceivingly neat, he ambled his way to me.

"Why don't you carry my books for me Sakura?" he said, leaning the left side of his body on the lockers.

When I didn't answer right away, he inched closer to me as if almost breathing on my neck. I was scared, the hairs on my back stood up, that was the truth. He placed his arm on the back of my neck and then pulled it away to twirl strands of my hair on his fingers.

"You see Sakura, you're exactly what I hate about girls," he muttered. A group of girls passed by and they stopped talking. To them, it looked like heaven to be touched like this by Yuu. To them, it looked like we were flirting. To them, Yuu treated me differently from them and that's why the girls hated me. Yuu Tobita was like their god—smart, rich, cool, and had a neat appearance.

But they were very wrong, very _much_ wrong.

I could feel the girls staring at us, perhaps waiting their dear Yuu to spare a glance at them. But he didn't, because he was busy tightening his grip on my hair. "Trying to be all that, eh? You think you're so important just because Andou is your step brother and he's breathing down Natsume's neck. I reckon you don't know what we could do to you if your _fucking_ brother isn't there to save you."

Done with his speech, he let go of me, rather strongly and almost had the other side of my face bump into my locker door. He suggested he wasn't done yet when he stuffed his hand inside my locker and whacked my books down. A couple of them hit me when they fell to the floor. And then with his sniggering friends, he left for the classroom.

It was almost dark when the classes were done. The corridors were loud and everyone hastened to get home, because tonight was Natsume's birthday. Natsume's birthday was like a gathering for the coolest people in school and apparently, because it was like an exclusive party, everyone wanted to be invited. To think that these people who hated me to their core wanted to be a part of a celebration I helped plan, what a laugh.

* * *

I was laid on my bed when my phone rang.

"Mik—,"

I was punctuated by a high-pitched squeal coming from the other line. "It's Aoi! Where are you? The party's already started!"

Aoi was Natsume's fourteen year old sister. I've never met her in person; we just knew each other on phone. How we met was unplanned. Natsume was talking to me that time on the phone when Aoi suddenly barged in his room. Natsume tried shooing her away, but she was stubborn enough not to do that and to piss her brother more, she grabbed his phone from his hand and asked me if I was the same girl she heard her brother talked to on the phone a lot of times. I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "I guess so." And then she told me, "'cause you know, I know it's the same girl. I mean, it's you. I've seen him talking to you on the phone once . . . or twice, yeah, and he always had this same expression on his face it scared me. Plus he was always laughing or grinning when you talk to him so—_shut up Natsume-nii_—I know you're interesting and you make my brother—_shush it!_—a person. Oh and I'm Aoi, her cute sister."

So whenever Aoi had an inkling that I was on the other line, she'd steal the phone away from him and talk to me instead. She never ran out of topics to say, so it was fun to talk to her. She also helped us arrange Natsume's seventeenth birthday.

I rolled to my side and looked at my digital clock, _8:34_, it said. Behind my clock was also my gift for Natsume, inside a dark blue paper bag.

"Please Mikan! I really want to see you. You have to me believe me that Natsume is sulking here in the corner," said Aoi. I laughed at what she said.

"Tell you what," I rose and sat on my knees, "I'm just waiting for my brother. I promise I'll be there, but not for too long."

I heard Aoi clap her hands excitedly. "OK. So I'm gonna join the party now while waiting for you. Take care, bye!"

Just as our conversation ended, I heard Tsubasa's door close loudly. His hurried footsteps meant he was going downstairs already. So I picked up my gift for Natsume and headed for the door. But I stopped for a few seconds to look at myself in the mirror. I was clad in a plain green short-sleeved dress which resembled a long collared-shirt that reached until before my knees, a little tight around the waist. I matched it with a pair of white low-cut sneakers. Noticing that my hair was a little bit messy, I had to brush it and just clip my bangs on one side.

When I got out, Tsubasa was standing on the doorway, back facing me, and the screen of his phone was almost glued to his face. His eyes were rapidly moving left to right and right to left while he read probably Misaki's message.

Quietly, I tiptoed down the stairs and snuck up behind him.

"Leaving?" I asked him. He yelped in surprise, almost letting go of his phone.

"Not without you!" He locked his one arm with mine and bit his lip, "Just a sec."

"What is it?"

Tsubasa didn't answer me until he pressed the send button and flashed a cool smile at me. "Misaki's already there. She says we can't be late for the gift-giving part."

"Why?"

There was a fleeting regretful expression on my brother's face before he stammered to an answer. "D-don't . . . No, it's nothing. Come on."

Mom and Dad came to the door when they heard the roar of the engine of Tsubasa's black car. They waved their hands at us, mom blowing a couple of air kisses, and we waved back at them, until Tsubasa pulled out of the driveway and they shrunk into dots in the mirror.

Natsume's house was a thirty-minute drive away from our house. While driving, Tsubasa kept on throwing glances at me, as if he wanted to say something, but then would decide not to speak about anything at all. Though, he made a few remarks about how Natsume's parents are cool for giving him birthday parties like this, or that there would always be the people who would gatecrash and end up being humiliated by Natsume's circle. I guessed I didn't want to know more about the latter one, even though I would admit it's kind of funny.

We entered their village and turned around about two corners, passing by a deserted playground that marked the third street on the left which we would go straight in order to reach Natsume's house. Vividly distinct as I stared at the sky, I could see bright lights coming from the house I've never seen. I could hear the boisterous laughter echoing on the quiet neighbourhood, as well as the loud music that even shook the stuff inside Tsubasa's car.

Tsubasa slowed down his pace as Natsume's house, big and live house, came into our view. Several cars were parked outside and people kept on pouring inside. There was a strident honk behind us. Tsubasa rolled his windows down and peeked to look who it was. He laughed and waved at the people behind us.

"I'll park the car over there and then meet Misaki inside. Are you sure you don't wanna go inside?" Tsubasa pointed at a narrow road, slightly concealed by the darkness, but definitely, we'd be able to see who would enter and exit the birthday celebrant's house.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead." I nodded at him, and then he drove to that specific spot.

When he turned off the engine, he cleared his throat and looked at me. "I'll tell Natsume you're here. And to Aoi as well?"

"I'm good. Have fun!" I punched him in the shoulder and off he went.

* * *

It was almost 10 PM when a group of four friends, whom I recognized a level higher than us, emerged from Natsume's house. One guy had his arm draped over this girl's shoulder, probably he's a bit drunk, and the other boy and girl were laughing at probably a joke the drunken guy made. Seated and hidden inside Tsubasa's car, they passed me by, and I thought I found out the reason why Misaki told Tsubasa not to be late for a certain part of the party.

"—_is mad I'm telling you!"_

"_I just can't believe it. Did you see Hyuuga's face? Woah."_

"_Which face?"_

"_Hahahahahahahahahahaha!"_

"_I guess Natsume-kun liked Imai's birthday gift after all. I mean—"_

"_What? What did she give him?"_

"_Weren't you there?"_

"_Hiroto, she made him a portrait of his face. I know Imai is good, but I never knew until now how good she is in painting."_

"_You would think a girl like her knows nothing else but to torment other people's lives. But look at tonight! Bet you Hyuuga's not letting her go anymore."_

"_You got that right."_

"_They'll make scary babies."_

"_What the fuck Hiroto? Hahahahahaha!"_

I knew I should be happy for Natsume that he finally made up with Hotaru. Maybe Hotaru was just shocked when Natsume first confessed to her. Now she's telling him that she's ready to accept him. But as I looked at the dark blue paper bag sitting on the driver's seat, I couldn't help but feel defeated. I wasn't competing or anything, but I felt sad that this was only what I got Natsume for his birthday. Hotaru made him a painting of himself and I didn't know how I could top that.

Now that I think about it, Natsume might never think of showing up here. It's already five past ten and he hadn't appeared in the doorway yet. More or less, he's busy there with everyone, with the people Natsume spent his high school life with. Maybe I have misled myself, thinking that I was the only person in the school who knew Natsume. That Natsume really hated the school. He's friends with me, yes, but that didn't mean that he never enjoyed his life with the people whom he had before me. Because considering our differences, Natsume never experienced being bullied, but I did, and that's what made us different. While Natsume shared some of his happy memories with them, I've only received hurting from them. I'm broken and Natsume's not.

And here they came.

From the inside, the feeling heavily grew to my chest, arms, neck, and face. The pumping went harder and faster. And as I struggled not to feel the hot sting materializing from the corner of my eyes, I opened the door and hastened outside. The room inside the car was suffocating.

The cold wind blew on my face while I aimlessly walk-run on the empty streets of the village. I went further and further until I couldn't hear the blaring music coming from Natsume's house. The only map I had of where my feet would bring me was inside my mind.

A few more steps, I saw a clearing through the bright lamp post standing on the corner. The clearing was an empty lot, and next to it was the deserted playground we passed by earlier.

I spotted a swing set located on the west of a flickering lamppost. I pulled myself and sat on the yellow one. Back and forth, I pushed myself, not so strong and not too soft. Feeling that my insides were already turning, and the familiar pain coming back, I pressed my feet down the ground to stop the swing.

Silence washed over the whole place when the chains of my swing stopped clunking with each other. Levelling my eyes to the sky, I gazed at the orchestrated twinkling dots that always came around this time of the year.

Memories flashed before me. The peaceful nights like this, when I was still in Paris and I wasn't alone in gazing at the night sky. I also remembered how I missed that certain feeling of peacefulness, the time when I felt I was ready to let go. Unknowingly, I tightened my grip on the rusting chains of my swing.

"I was waiting for you to gate-crash my birthday," Natsume's voice hung on the air. When he emerged from the shade, he continued. "I knew I was right when I thought I'd find you here."

I smiled. "Why?"

With his eyebrows furrowed, he walked until he was in front of me.

"Why did you come here?"

"Ah," he shrugged and then sat on the blue swing next to me. ". . . because I want my gift."

"Figures," my voice dropped with disappointment, recalling that Hotaru Imai's birthday gift to him would never allow my simple one to top hers.

But Natsume's "No," pulled me from my dejected state.

"See that bush over there?" he pointed at the almost dead bush standing behind a see-saw. "Yeah that. Well, look at the see-saw. They're beside the point." He smirked at me, which I returned with a disbelieving look.

"What I mean is, I realized that my birthday won't be complete without you."

It was awkward, and yet it was difficult to remove our locked stare at each other, but I wouldn't avert anyway. I didn't know what to say, though.

"Yeah," I finally managed to croak. That was the moment I felt I could remove my eyes from him and look at the bush he was talking about earlier. "Natsume," I turned to him, his eyes were still on me, "Happy Birthday."

I think he was waiting for me to say that, because the corners of his lips curved upward. "Thank you."

.

.

Carefully, we walked back to their house, following the path of the shade so no one could see us together. I told Natsume I'd just wait for my brother in the car, but he suggested another surprising idea. Something birthday celebrants and his visitors wouldn't expect himself to do.

"No, no, no way, Natsume. It's your party. You can't just—!" He clamped his hand over my mouth, while we hid behind a tree.

"I can. Watch me," he fished his phone inside his pocket and speed dialled someone. "Aoi. I'm with her. Yeah . . . Just handle the rest . . . OK, no . . . Some other time, bye."

"Aoi!" I exclaimed, completely remembering that I promised her I'd meet her tonight.

Natsume glared at me. "And to you, some other time, too. Let's go."

He pulled my wrist and we ran to his car that was parked outside their house. The fact that everyone was probably inside and it was dark in that area, we had no trouble going in his car and zooming away from his house.

"You are really crazy! Come on Natsume, let's go back. It's your birthday! We can—I cannot let you run away from your crappy party. Come on now. I'm fine waiting for Tsubasa. Oh God, my brother!" I was frantic inside the car that Natsume had to hold my hand to stop me flailing my arms all over.

He looked at me through the side of his eyes. "Stop talking."

The road was almost empty, only a few cars hanging around. Natsume pulled the brakes when the stoplight lit. And then he looked at me fully. No, he wasn't just looking. He was more of glaring. I pursed my lips and inwardly winced at the kind of glare he was giving me.

"I would trade a hundred birthdays for this one. So shut up now, because there's no way I'm letting this night pass without Katekyo Hitman Reborn Season 4 DVD you got me. We'll watch this in your house and that's an order."

A burst of laughter came out from my mouth and I pinched Natsume's cheek. He finally let go of me. "I know you said you didn't want me to call you cute, but you're being that right now. Happy Birthday Natsume-_chin_!"

Natsume scoffed, and then coolly placed his hands on the steering wheel. "I'm hot, in case you forgot."

"Oh, don't worry. You never let me forget about that one." With a wide smile lit on my face, I thought of how happy I was right now, feeling that it was my birthday. To think that Natsume chose to spend the remaining minutes of his special day with me, I was one extremely happy girl, who considered not letting go.

* * *

_A/n_: First and foremost, what do you think about this chapter? Gimme some love with your reviews. :) Second, I'll be going on a field trip for two days and won't be back until the evening of September 14, GMT +8, so I pray that when I get back, a lot of reviews are waiting for me to be read. :)) Wish me a happy trip, will you? And lastly, this chapter was updated as soon as I was done typing it. I haven't done a proofread. So in case there are any errors, don't hesitate to tell me, and I'll change it when I get back. See you. :*

_**TheVanishingSpectacles **_  
_©2012_


	6. S I X

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**SIX: The Transition**

* * *

When Natsume asked me to be his girlfriend, on a December's late afternoon, the sky was filled with the rays of the disappearing sun stretching for miles. We were standing on the rooftop of the school building, our bodies covered with thick clothing apart from our uniform. And despite the chilly blow of the wind, I was feeling warm inside. Not because of my coat and scarf, but because of the heated moment. My insides burned with apprehension and my face flushed with something more than uncertainty.

Long before this occurred, I knew that I had fallen in love with this guy in front of me. I was trapped in a vessel and there was no exit. So I knew that what I could only do was to accept that I was in love with him. By then, I was largely contented that I could stay beside him, and that I could love him from that point of view, because for someone whose story was bounded since I could remember, I would never ask for something much more. There was only one exit for me, and it didn't exist in this vessel. My brother hated this mentality of mine. But what could I do? What could he possibly do?

And I wasn't just in love. I was head over heels for this guy—for Natsume. Only, I was kept in place by reason. I had drawn an invisible line between us, and I promised not to cross this border. Back then, I didn't really think that Natsume's view towards me as a friend he could confide to would change. That's why when he asked me, I was predominantly afraid that he mistook his feelings for me as a friend and as someone he wanted to be his girlfriend.

"I wished that," I looked at him and understood that even if my voice was hair's breadth audible, he was listening intently, "there are a lot of things that are running in my mind right now. But there's just this passive line, this dead air, and I don't know what I should say."

Natsume took a step closer to me. "Mikan, you're the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. My life is like this spool of thread and it keeps unwinding and spinning and spinning. I hurt myself and I hurt other people. But then I look at you and there you are, standing in front of me, beside me, and you're unscathed by all my thoughts."

"You were there. And it's not as simple as that. I could see you, I could feel you, I could hear you. You are here and real. Mikan, you're this person, this girl who keeps me on the ground, but has the power to make me lose myself anytime you desire. I hated that at first, but then you grew on me. And you never stopped. Then today, when I woke up, I knew that if I still cower, I'll lose you. Believe me, I was afraid."

"And if I say no?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I don't know. I don't want you to."

"But . . ."

"Please don't say no. Mikan, please."

I shook my head, fighting the impulse to give in. "But I have to."

As silence took over, he brought his gaze down to the floor. He massaged his jaw with his hand and I saw the regretful look on his eyes. I took in the soft cadence of the wind blowing around us and how the small light on Natsume's eyes wavered. He looked back at me and I was aware that his next question was the one I feared the most.

"Will you tell me why?"

I learned from the books and movies and other's stories and from someone I knew that if you loved someone, you have to give them the truth. The righteous thing to do, even though it hurt more than a thousand stabs, was to tell them the reality of things. And I loved Natsume, so this was the right thing to do. I should tell him why I could never accept him. Tell him that the girl in front of him, whom he said he loved, would never make him happy because she wasn't going to exist in the near future.

"I can't, because I'm sick."

In my entire life, I'd never thought that a slight change in someone's expression could break my heart more than the thing inside me. From his frown, his lips gradually curved into a quiver. There was a bitter laugh coming from the back of his throat. His hands rose up to drew his hair and then to his chest, and he started pumping his fist on them.

"What? Are you telling me . . . all this time? You're—you're kidding me."

"I'm dying, Natsume. That's why I can't accept you."

When he didn't stop beating himself with his fist, I rushed to him and clutched his hands. He was cold. He struggled against me. And when I looked up, the first bead of tear I ever saw from him formed in the corner of his eyes.

"Natsume, please, stop. This is pointless."

"All this time . . . all this time I let them do that to you . . . all this time I knew I've loved you . . . Mikan, what . . . I'm such an idiot. I should be the one . . . God."

Slowly, Natsume's arms enveloped me in his trembling body. He kept on saying 'sorry' and repeating that he should be the one in my stead. But I didn't want that. "Natsume, I never blamed you for everything. There's no reason for you to think that way. I've had this even before I met you."

He lowered his lips to my ear. He was calmer by then when he whispered, "You, saying this, don't change the fact that I love you so Mikan. And I know that you do, too."

I wanted to collapse in his arms, and that was what I did. I was tired and ready to give up. My hands found their way to his back and I pressed myself against his warmth. After all, I wasn't going to have many of this in the story of my life.

"It's no use Natsume. This is still pointless."

"It doesn't matter."

"Just Natsume . . . make sure you have a contingency plan."

Natsume planted a kiss on the top of my head. "Thank you."

* * *

A week after I asked Mikan to be my girlfriend, she was no longer able to come to school. Thursday evening, when the snow was falling harder, Tsubasa called me and said that Mikan was sent to the hospital.

On impulse, I rushed to the door and was about to go when my mom asked me where I was heading to. She had met Mikan two days after Mikan became my girlfriend. She also knew about her condition.

"Where are you going Natsume? Didn't you just see the weather report?"

"Mikan's in hospital. I need to go. Have you seen my keys?"

My mom fished something from her pockets and revealed that it was the ring of my keys. I was about to take it when she pulled back her hand. "Natsume, I'm truly sorry. You should know that I hate knowing that the girl you love is . . . but, don't you think Mikan would've wanted you to go to her when it's not eleven in the evening and the road is not thickened with snow?"

"But mom! You don't understand."

"I do, Natsume. I do. It's just that, please think about us. I'm worried for you. Your father and I, and especially Aoi, we are both worried for you and Mikan. I may not know how distressed you are right now. But you're my son and it hurts me seeing you like this."

"What are you saying? That I should abandon my girlfriend?" My voice had risen then.

"No, no," she neared me and cupped both of my cheeks. "I'm just saying that I'll let you go, but tomorrow. OK? Not right now when I can't even see anything from our window. How do you expect me to think? Mikan and her family will understand."

"No, I can't . . ."

"Please?"

"OK. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning."

She smiled and hugged me. "That's my son. Now go to sleep and I'll let you go tomorrow as early as you can."

I didn't really want to not go. I was anxious and worried. Ever since I met Mikan, this was the first time I was aware that she had an attack. On my way to my room, I was repetitively dialling Tsubasa's number. Because my fingers were feeling numb, I kept on pressing the wrong numbers.

"Tsubasa? Yeah?"

"_Hey, Natsume_," I could hear the exhaustion coming from Tsubasa's voice.

"I can't go, I'm sorry."

"_No, no, it's alright. It is zero visibility, can't see anything from here either_."

I felt a pang, a void within me when he said that. I was thinking if he meant that he couldn't see Mikan. I grew afraid.

"_She won't let you come here Natsume. She worries for you more than her state. I mean, you know her_."

"Just call me when she wakes up."

I pressed the end call and fell on my bed. That night, I didn't sleep. It was one of the longest nights I ever had. At the back of my mind, the other me was saying that this wouldn't be the first time this would happen. There was also a frustrating and remorseful thought that tonight would be Mikan's last existence here in this world. She could be erased and only her physical body would remain with us. This one was the most unforgiveable thought I ever had.

As I lay on my bed, I thought of Tsubasa having to experience this particular heavy and inhumane emotion inside him whenever Mikan would be confined to the hospital. I felt stupid then, thinking back what I had done to Mikan before. This guilt crept on me, the end of my nerves throbbing with unimaginable pain and fear as I recounted what Mikan had gone through with the hands of our classmates and mine. She shouldn't have been suffered that much.

The time I spent lying on my bed passed so long that when the first weak ray of sunlight peered through my window, I got to my feet and washed my face, brushed my teeth, and changed to my shirt then headed to the door immediately. It was past 6 in the morning and no one was awake yet. When I arrived at the door, my keys were placed atop a piece of paper on the table beside the door.

_Drive safely. We love you both,_

_Mom_

It was as if the weather was cooperating with me. The guys shovelling the snow were working early, and the snow seemed to have stopped falling this morning. I ran to my car and drove to the Seishun Medical Center where Mikan was confined in.

I couldn't contain myself for the thirty-minute drive to the hospital. I kept on honking when the red signal lights up. When I got there, I quickly locked the door of my car and sprinted to the entrance door. I asked the front desk where Mikan was at and when she said that she was at Room 317, I left in a hurry with a 'thanks' and not hearing more from her.

As soon as I got to the third floor, I spotted Tsubasa waiting for his coffee on the vending machine. Somehow seeing him made my knees locked and I failed to move until he was done and came walking to me.

"Natsume, wow, you're early!" he patted me on the shoulder and dragged me in the empty hallway. "You look bad, bro. She won't like seeing you in this state."

"S-she's awake? Is she alright?"

"Just now."

Tsubasa removed his arm when we arrived on the door. I leaned on the wall beside the closed door and let my head fall back. "What am—what am I supposed to say?"

Smiling, but weakly, Tsubasa scratched the tip of his nose. "Stay cocky as you have been. She loves that. God I'm betraying my sister."

For the first time since last night, I felt I had the right to be happy about something.

I knocked on the door before opening it. I could hear Mikan's quiet delight while she was talking with her parents. The smell of lavender lingered around the room.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Sakura," I greeted them.

They both smiled at me. Mikan's mom hugged me and her dad shook hands with me. They told me to call them by their names, Yuka and Hiro, but I wasn't that used to it.

"We'll leave you two," Yuka said, grabbing her husband's hand on their way out. I didn't see Mikan until then.

I pressed my clenched fists inside my pockets and stepped beside her bed, "Hey."

It was hard seeing her with an oxygen tube on her face and all these apparatuses I wasn't familiar with strapped to her, and knowing that she was masking the pain she felt inside.

Mikan blinked her eyes and lit up a feeble smile, "Hey."

* * *

**A/n**: I apologize for the delay of this chapter. This chapter is really a challenge for me, thus it faced a lot of revisions. Quite noticeable, for the succeeding chapters, it will be Natsume's POV. I know you hate me for the short chapter and the cliff hanger, but this is really it. Send me some paradoxical love with your reviews. Thank youuu. :")


	7. S E V E N

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**SEVEN**

* * *

Whenever I looked at Hotaru now, a string of memories would flash in my mind. They would rush inside and leave me, bit by bit, understanding that she had made the right decision of not accepting me, of not letting me fool myself for too long.

All along my attempts of pursuing her, she had known that I didn't love the Hotaru I was seeing; and that I didn't need more of her than I supposed. She was herself, I was myself, and we were this curious case of friends. We were the best friend of each other before we entered the pressure of society, while constantly looking at each other's back. But I had fallen into the trap: the one where I was made to feel that I was superior to the others, where the problem that existed graver more than anything was that there was a prime need of having someone. It didn't matter how love was defined or if it was actually felt. I just needed to have that someone who could match me. And Hotaru was that. Or so I thought.

But Hotaru had constantly and never failed to not neglect me in her life. Just like now when she was standing in front of me and telling me that I didn't need to be alone in this transition in my life.

.

.

On our lunch, I headed to the rooftop—where I usually spent my free time ever since—and stood before the meter high silver rails, overlooking the front gate of the school. Out on the distance, the sky was an ominous gray, but a pale light lined the top of the buildings. I heard the silent and careful, but familiar footsteps then.

"Until when are you not going to talk to me, Natsume?" asked Hotaru, pacing towards me.

I looked at her when she got to my side. The wind was sweeping her short raven wisps away from her neck. How to say this . . . Hotaru was really beautiful. Her sharp eyes that seemed to see everything and know everyone's deepest secrets were really intimidating, but if you'd look at her closely, like this in this distance, her beauty was something else. She'd always appear as someone who loathed everything and found her malicious happiness from watching others suffer. But I knew she wasn't that at all.

Her lips were thinning and pursing in nippy motions. Hotaru had a lot to say, but she didn't know how to continue, that I was sure. The best thing I could do was wait.

"I may be like this, but I never forgot about you. Just talk to me," she finally spoke again. Then she turned her head to me. "I know about Mikan Sakura."

I smirked.

She threw a disappointed look at me. "OK, so I was jealous. But not because she was your girlfriend."

It was her turn to smirk when my face showed that I was confused.

"I was jealous . . . because she probably knew you more than me. You're her bully and yet, she accepted you. I know it's not just because she was simply attracted."

"That's not accurate," I said. "She didn't know me more than you do, but she acknowledged a side of me you failed to see. I'm not sure what, but she saw through me."

"..."

"..."

Hotaru clenched her fingers around the thin rails and pulled her body towards it. "I heard from my uncle."

I wasn't surprised. Hotaru's uncle was a general surgeon at Seishun Medical Center. He must have told her. Still, I asked.

"How?"

"He saw you there, a couple of times I think. He knew Sakura's parents and knew that their daughter is confined there. He never told me about this until now, until he saw you enter her room and he wondered why. So he asked."

"Uh, that. . . ." hearing what she said didn't really change anything. I didn't know how to respond. It occurred to me then that Hotaru knew Mikan was sick, but did she know that this girl we're talking about, this girl, who became my girlfriend just very recently, was facing so little time?

Hotaru must have seen something in me. She sucked the insides of her cheek. "I know that I have no right to ask or even speak about her like this," she tore her eyes away from me. "But, how is she?"

A cold gush of wind puffed past us.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit the sides of my tongue. "She's feeling better," she really was, Mikan. But I couldn't say that that was very reassuring.

"Natsume—"

"I know!" Hotaru was staring at me and I tried averting my eyes, but I couldn't. I knew what she wanted to say. I realized then, too, that she knew that Mikan wasn't going to live long. A lot of patients whose life was already bounded claimed they felt better on some days, or weeks, or months, after they were told the truth. They all said they felt better . . . and then, they would stop breathing.

I wanted to believe that Mikan was going to be one of those exceptional cases—people who survived. But I had these infrequent thoughts that if it would end her suffering, even if it was hard, I'd rather her—

"Natsume!" Hotaru shook me vigorously, her hands now curled painfully around my shoulders. It was just then I noticed my cheeks wet. "Look, she won't . . ." gulping, she averted her eyes but then brought it back to me quickly. "She won't—no, I can't promise you. But you can't be like this. Not now! I don't know how you are feeling, how sad you are or disappointed or how much you wish that you're the one in her position. I really don't. . . . But Sakura, I've seen her, she's a fighter. You have to trust her. Do you hear me?"

Her sudden outburst shocked me. Rarely, she raised her voice like that. I realized then that with Hotaru, I didn't need to say whatever I was feeling. She always knew.

She pulled me in, her skinny arms encircling my upper body. "You have to believe in her, OK?" she whispered and I succumbed to it.

* * *

Mikan stirred from her sleep when I entered her white-washed room. An oxygen tube got into her way of speaking, so she moaned, asking me to remove it for her. I walked over to her, scratching the back of my head, and then drew the thing covering her mouth away.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked; pulling a chair from the corner to the side of her bed. The tips of her fingers gestured me to hold them.

"No," smiling weakly, she shook her head the slightest. "What did you bring for me today?"

"Nothing. . . . Tsubasa told me not to spoil you."

Everything Mikan did was very limited—smiling, speaking, shaking her head, asking me to hold her hand, and even her glaring.

"Did something happen? You look . . . tired," she said, feebly squeezing my digits against her.

I felt stupid then to realize how weak I looked right now. Mikan, she was the one on the death bed, and yet she still cared for me so much. I chuckled at myself and shook my head.

"What is it?"

I dragged myself and the chair nearer to her. Staring directly into her eyes, I spoke. "I was thinking about you and how I've been doing it for months and I wonder why it's still wearing me out when it has become my favourite routine."

Mikan opened her lips to say something, but she closed them again and smiled, her cheeks going pink. I laid my forehead on her arm and placed my lips softly on her skin. I wanted to hold her, harder and firmer, because my fear that she would disappear from my eyes was slowly overwhelming me.

Every day there's this void inside me like a hunger that could never be satisfied, no matter how much I see Mikan. The days could never be enough. They were never enough. So how would I be in the future? When none of this would exist anymore?

"Natsume," Mikan's fingers were now tracing my cheek and I wondered why they were wet. I looked up and pressed my hand against her hand that was on my cheek, and then felt the hot trickles drawing their own pathway on my cheek. "I'm still here, save them for the rainy days. Please?"

She wiped my tears with her thumb. I suppressed the fear from showing, when I sensed the wavering warmth in her. _God_, she was smiling now and I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to react.

I helped her sit up straight as she gestured. With our digits still intertwined, her smile widened and I just had to press mine against the back of hers firmer. "Listen, mom and dad talked to the doctor last night and he said I can go home now. Tsubasa didn't really like the idea, he's a bit of you know, touchy about this thing. We got into a small argument, but don't worry. I suppose he think it's a bad idea for me to be saying I wanna go home at this moment."

"He let you win, I suppose?"

I hope he didn't. Because I thought Tsubasa was right. He had a point and I thought that he and I probably shared the same idea and felt the same fear.

"_I've seen her, she's a fighter. You have to trust her."_

But I also had the responsibility to Mikan: I had to trust her, like what Hotaru said. Or else, I'd be the one at my breaking point.

Mikan shook her head. "You should know that I've talked to Tsubasa about this a hundred times, and we didn't, oh we couldn't really agree at the end every time. I don't know. . . I just want to go home and not stay too long at this hospital. Well no that there's anything particularly wrong about this hospital, except that it's a hospital and I'm not a big fan of them. These doctors and nurses come into your room with either that sad, sad look on their face or that fake smile and I can't stand it."

Chuckling, I added, "Plus everything's white."

"Yes, yes, everything is white. So what if white implies cleanliness? Seriously? Oh and the food is horrible. That is why I'm coming home later in the evening."

"Later?"

The shock must have been so evident in my face that Mikan stifled her laugh and reached out to kiss my forehead lightly.

"_Yes, my love, I'm coming home later. You don't fancy the idea_?" she said in her English accent.

"Course I do. Hmm, I probably should stay and go with you when you go home?" I answered in Japanese.

"If you want to, but don't you have school tomorrow? I don't want you missing them, or you arriving any more later than you do."

With the turn of events in my life, I found myself, unknowingly but with utter remorse, coming to school earlier than anyone would have expected. Since Tsubasa hadn't told Mikan about it, I assumed he had no idea.

"They're boring anyway."

The door opened, surprising both Mikan and me, and we looked at our intruders. Tsubasa and Misaki.

"Didn't you know—oh! Hi Mikan and Natsume!" Misaki, Tsubasa's girlfriend waved her hand at us, breaking her hold with Mikan's brother. Her pink hair still had some snow on them. She looked at Mikan. "Sorry we didn't know we're going to interrupt you two."

"You didn't?" the corner of Tsubasa's lips twitched as he peered curiously at his girlfriend's face. I had a feeling then that Misaki was feigning it.

"Yes, Tsubasa dear. I supposed we wouldn't," she kissed his cheek and then walked to Mikan, kissing her cheek, too, before changing the flowers in the vase. I didn't notice she had brought a bouquet of flowers.

"_She's lying_," Tsubasa mouthed while Misaki's back was turned.

I felt it was never safe to stay too cosy with Mikan with her brother watching us, so I removed myself from her and stood up. Tsubasa and I made that hey-supposed-to-be-future-brother-hand-and-hug-shake.

"_Glad we came at the right time_. . . ." Tsubasa whispered in my ear as he made the last pat on my back. "Just kidding," he messed my hair and laughed.

I decided to help Misaki throw the wilted flowers to give the siblings their own time. I knew Misaki had the same thing in her mind right now.

The bed creaked. "_Mikan . . . you know I love you and I will not ask for any other sister in the world. And I'm sorry for last night. I'm just—that owing thing you keep on insisting. It's hurting me._"

Misaki had stopped arranging the flowers. She was facing the window now, the last of the sunset flowing on her.

"_Tsubasa . . . why do you always make me cry like this_?" there were soft sobs coming from Mikan. "_Why—_sniff—sniff_—why—tears please stop. You're the sweetest brother and I love you so so so much you know that, too, and I don't want to see you sad_."

I felt Misaki's cold hand on top of mine. She was shaking and her eyes have been concealed with a wavering clear liquid.

"_I believe that you are the one who understands me the most and I hate seeing and knowing how much I am hurting you with my decision. But please trust me. . . . Please Tsubasa._"

We both felt it: the heartbreaking arms encompassing the fate of our beloved ones, their misery, their sadness . . . and how much they didn't want to let go of one another.

Fate was like a hammer, ceaselessly pounding for its existence through my ears. It tortured me and it hurt . . . but it must have hurt more than this for them. I could never, probably even for a thousand years, understand how Tsubasa felt—to be someone who could only watch his sister and feel how raw it was.

I wanted to steal a glance at them, but I didn't. I was scared.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Misaki said, her eyes blankly gazing at the last of the sun on the distance. There was a sad smile on her face, but there was also something else.

I understood what she meant and that she wasn't indicating the dusk. Even though they didn't ask for this, the love they have for each other . . . it was beautiful. So beautiful that it was so painful to watch it slowly to its end.

* * *

**A/n**: First of all, belated Happy Christmas and Happy New Year to you! Next on my business is: I hope you didn't forget about this story. I'm alright with you forgetting me, but I still hope that some of you still have that little of something that makes you remember this story and wait for it. The next chapters will be late, very late, because I will be very, severely busy with school. And lastly, I'll be waiting for your reviews. So then, until we meet again! :D


	8. E I G H T

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**EIGHT**

* * *

One Saturday morning, I was walking down the street when I saw a poster glued in front of a store. I didn't know exactly why I bothered with it, except that I knew for a fact that I was the kind of person who never thought about death . . . until now.

In haste, I called Yuka to tell her that I had to run on a few errands before I went to their house. Since Mikan needed a lot of sleep, we had talked that I'd just ring Yuka in the mornings.

"No, it's not a problem. She's still asleep," she said on the phone, ending the call.

Thrusting my hands inside my pocket, I walked myself through the park and down a few more blocks. It took me about ten minutes to get to the address that was written on the poster. The place was two-storey house at the corner of the street. There was a gold plate on the door where the name 'Dr. Subaru Imai' was written, and under it was his _Psychologist/Counselor_ title.

And it struck me, how could I forget, that this was Hotaru's older brother. He moved away from their home when he started college and ever since then, rarely got in touch with Hotaru and their family. I have seen him several times when I visited their house to play with Hotaru; he was high school then and Hotaru and I were in our third grade.

This was crazy, I thought. What did I even come here for? That counseling ad on the street was just as stupid as this idea. To think that I could talk about my feelings to Subaru was unbearable and impossible, let alone having some stranger welcomed into my thoughts. I had to leave.

I spun around, ready to walk away when the door opened, a new sense of coldness sucking me in.

"Yes?" asked Subaru. His voice never changed, although it did a bit because it got deeper and lower. And there was an air of practiced sophistication in his tone. He looked like Hotaru, except that he was her male version and that he was taller. His black eyes bore into whoever he looked at through his eyeglasses. Everything in him was screaming of a successful remote man.

I turned to him. He was shocked for a moment but quickly regained it. He stepped out and leaned on the frame of his door.

"Well this is a surprise, Natsume," he said, amusement playing in his voice.

"Yeah, believe it or not I was not in for this," I muttered.

"Alright," he shrugged. "What did you come here for?

"Never mind me. I was just going."

"Don't get too cocky with me, young man. Why don't you come inside for a bit? It's cold out there," he stood straight and went inside to open the door wide enough for me.

I thought about not going in his house, but this was Subaru. As far as I could he remember he's the kind of person who could keep a secret until his death. I was hard on trusting anyone. Subaru, however, was different. There was an incident when I accidentally broke Hotaru's figurine and he saw me. He never told her. I guessed he just didn't like that purple doll or that he was just that guy who never thought of joining in something that wouldn't benefit him. And there was another thing . . . something that made his situation years ago and mine right now the same.

So I took a shot and followed him inside. He had a decent place and a too-neat one for a guy who's living alone. He opened the first door on the right and I was led in a room that I didn't doubt was his office. His mahogany desk stood behind a curtained window. I glanced at it and surely this was how he found out that there was someone standing on his door. There were two shelves of book across the door.

"Here, have a seat," he indicated on the couch in the middle of the room. "Coffee?"

"Sure," I said, sitting down on the pearly white couch and noticed the same one across me.

After a few minutes, he got back with a tray which he placed on the table between the two couches. He sat across me and gestured for me to have a cup.

"So, how are you?" asked Subaru, folding the sleeves of his black sweater.

"I'm fine."

He pushed his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose. "I don't think so. That's why you've come to see me."

There was a streak of silence that passed between us.

"You have to start saying something or else I will not know. That is not how I work, Natsume."

"Alright then," I said, glaring at the spot above his shoulder. "I have a girlfriend and she's . . . like Ibaragi-san."

His expression turned indifferent and I knew he hated me for bringing that up. He always hated when people talked about Nobara Ibaragi, his ex-girlfriend way back on high school. But maybe he's a bit mature now, because he took it differently. He didn't walk away just like how he did before. "How long?" he said.

"The doctor said she's got less than a year. I'm . . . I'm afraid. I've never felt this—I'm desperate and confused and a lot of other things. It's killing me."

I told him how I felt—that I loved Mikan more than anything. That I felt like dying, too, along with her. That living with her only as a memory didn't mean much of a life to me. That I was sure about everything except one: death.

I have been dealing with its anticipated existence ever since I met Mikan, but never until now had I thought of how it meant to me. The word meant nothing to me before but a loss. I was new to the first-hand encounter of death so how was I going to feel about it, I couldn't figure out. It had been embracing me for so long, yet its subsistence was so casually thrown aside.

Subaru nodded, clasping his hands between his knees. He stared at me then. "You see Natsume, everyone knows about death. But there are only a few who truly accepts it. You don't need a dictionary or a volume of a book just to know everything about it, because death is death as it is.

"When the person you love dies or in the point of dying, it is natural to be sad and devastated. To be angry and to be confused. I understand that you see yourself in my position years ago, and you are not wrong. But that does not mean that this idea occupying you is entirely right. We are both different persons and every person has a different way of dealing with things. However what you must understand that the one thing common in all of us is we have to admit death into our lives. It's just that our roads are different, our thinking and our ways are distinctive to us only."

"How did you cope with Ibaragi-san's death?" I asked.

"Bad. You see me how I am right now, don't you? She's still in here," he pointed at his left chest. "The difficult thing about admitting death is the involvement of another person. When I found out about her sickness, I turned my back from her. Don't get me wrong because like you, I loved her more than myself. But the problem with me was I was a coward. And when I came back to her, the time left for us was very short. And then I was left hanging on. It left me unready.

"It's unthinkable to think that a person is _here_, but she cannot be there in the future anymore. It's like having an unrequited love for the rest of your life."

He took a sip of his coffee. "I have to let her go, but I don't know how. In simple words, I haven't conquered death yet. That is also why I moved away after I lost her. I couldn't bear the thought of others looking at me and feeling sorry that when I need to see where Nobara is, I have to look at her tomb. If you ask me that is a completely wretched idea."

"Yeah, pretty much." I understood how Subaru saw things before. He was the valedictorian of the class, with big dreams and success awaiting him. Whenever people saw him, what they see was a guy who would subjugate everything on his way. But after his girlfriend's death, he was subjected to their pity. He couldn't take that. And he couldn't take losing her either.

"I'm sorry to hear about your girlfriend. She still has time, Natsume. Do not follow after me when for being a coward. Do what you can, and do what you must. If you truly love her, don't dwell on the impending circumstances. Live with her and only you then will you be able to know how you wanted to live your life after."

After our short meeting, I stood up to say that I had to go. He escorted me out into the gray skies. At last when we're at the door, he said one more thing.

"How's Hotaru?"

She's doing well, I said.

He nodded and then disappeared inside his house.

While walking, I thought about what Subaru told me, and remembered what Mikan said to me when she was last in the hospital. Both of them agreed that there's only one thing for me to do: to live with the living. And that's what I would do.

I rode the bus on my way to Mikan's house. There were only a few people inside the bus. Two old women seated behind me suddenly called my attention.

"She's a lucky girl," the one by the window said.

I looked at the bunch of yellow tulips wrapped in a white net and held by a red ribbon. I smiled at it and then to the women behind me. "I hope she likes it."

The other woman answered, "With a beautiful pair of the flowers and you sonny, I'm sure she will."

"Thanks," I said, thinking about their compliments and anticipating when the bus would arrive to my stop.

Five minutes or so, the bus finally halted in a bus stop. I rose to my feet and heard the two women muttered, "Good luck."

Holding the bouquet and securing my bonnet on my head, I went down the bus. The snowfall was scarce this afternoon, but the leafless branches of the trees beside the empty road were covered in heaps of snow.

I started walking further when a familiar voice called out. "Natsume!"

Flabbergasted, I looked around at the person sitting on the bench beside the telephone booth a yard away behind the bus stop sign. It was Mikan, wrapped in her thick yellow coat and her brown scarf concealed half of her face. A pink umbrella was sprawled on the bench beside her.

I ran to her as she stood up and hugged me. "Ooh, it's so cold out here. Come here," she wrapped her arms tighter around me.

"What are you doing here in the cold?" I asked her.

"Waiting for you, silly," she said, pulling her scarf down to her neck. "What took you so long?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, but the look on her flushed cheeks in the cold took me in the right thinking. And that was to get her home immediately. "These," I handed her the bouquet and she squealed in delight. It was very unlike of how she was these past few days. She was very keyed up today.

"Thank you, Natsume," Mikan tiptoed to kiss me on my cheek. "I love them and I love you."

"Me, too, you," I wrapped my one hand around her waist and the other reached for her umbrella. I pressed the button and it opened.

Subaru told me that I didn't have to be afraid. I have to live with Mikan.

Our eyes met when I looked down at her. She asked why, her free hand that was not hugging the flower gripping on my arm.

"I just thought I didn't really want to be seen holding a frilly pink umbrella," I mumbled but loud enough for her to hear.

She smiled at me, "But you see, that's the point."

We arrived at their house to see Yuka looking jumpy by the front door. She was pacing back and forth and only stopped when she saw Mikan and me.

"Oh, finally you're here. I was worried something happened to the two of you," Yuka hugged Mikan and then me as we got to her. She opened the door then and went in after us.

"Mom, look what Natsume got me!" Mikan beamed at her and Yuka smiled approvingly.

"They're wonderful," she said as she faced me. "Thank you, Natsume. Have you eaten yet?"

"I'm alright."

"Why don't you stay here with Mikan then while I prepare? She hasn't eaten yet. Oh, let me hang your coats on the closet," she offered. We gave her our coats and sat on the couch, while she went to the kitchen.

Just then a door upstairs opened and reverberated were the thundering footsteps of Tsubasa as he hurried down to us. He towered before us, his hands planted firm on his hips. He was wearing a white shirt under his thick gray jacket matched with black sweatpants.

"Mikan, why on earth did you go out?" he said through his gritted teeth. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't pleased either. It was hard to tell.

"I'm fine," Mikan shrugged.

"Ugh you two wait here. I think Misaki's calling me," Tsubasa was out of our sight in a second.

Mikan giggled as she watched her brother disappear into his room.

"Hello, babe . . ." we heard him saying before he shut his door.

"He is so weird," Mikan mumbled out of his earshot, and leaned her back on the sofa. All of a sudden, with our fingers laced around each other, she whispered something that I knew she kept as a secret but from me.

"I don't think I'll reach the end of the winter."

Our eyes said all that couldn't be said by the lips. She closed her eyes and I took in the silence of the time around us. Watching the scant fall of snow outside the window, the sound of our breathing and the clunking sound of utensils from the kitchen and the muffled voice of Tsubasa in his room became unbearable to me for some moments. And what I could only assume, what Mikan heard was not them, but the cry of the oblivion of her future.

* * *

**A/n:** I used here a beloved line said by Sumire in the chapter 'A Lesson in Memories' in the manga of Gakuen Alice. Think you could spot it? :)


	9. N I N E

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**NINE**

* * *

A week before Christmas, the lanterns on the streets created a brighter wave of colorful lights and every living soul could feel the temperature going downhill as the holiday approached closer. Everywhere I went I could pick up a Christmas tune and would find myself humming instinctively along the sound. The malls and stores were always packed with excited customers who shopped for gifts and foods and clothes and gifts again. But their expressions would sour whenever they realized the length of the lines on the cashiers. Rarely anyone exited the doors without anything in their hands.

My family made trips to the malls several times this week. Most of the time it was mom who asked me to drive for her. But I knew better of course.

While this exhilarating scene was common in everywhere, a certain home was busy with something else. The Sakura household was only half-celebrating the approaching Christmas day. Mikan, a couple days after she returned to her convincing bright and lively times, suddenly showed signs that she was to be sent back to the hospital again. It was an hour after midnight when she screamed in pain for the furious pounding of her heart. When they got her to the hospital, her heart stopped for about ten seconds. But she lived.

I wasn't there in the hospital. I wasn't able to go. Tsubasa called me only after her heart started beating again and told me that she was fine for the moment. I went to the hospital in the morning and found Yuka, Hiro, and Tsubasa in the corridor outside the ICU. Yuka's eyes were puffy red as she leaned against Hiro. Tsubasa was standing, unable to sit still beside them. When Tsubasa saw me at the end of the corridor, I understood his stare that it was OK for me to go there. That I had become a part of their family.

It seemed as if my feet wouldn't take me anywhere. After what seemed like a long time, I was a meter away from them when Tsubasa met me and embraced me. I felt him shaking and heard the non-distant stifled sounds coming from him.

"The doctor said it was a matter of time," Hiro said in his low voice as if he didn't want Yuka to hear him say.

I looked at him and he nodded slowly, before he lifted his hand up to his face.

And it was another illusory shot of a distant time. I bit the insides of my cheek and tried to remember what Subaru told me. I had to be alive, to be living for her. She was not dead . . .

_Yet_.

Because there was a lack of sign that she was going to wake up soon and a surplus of need to be alone, I went home, promising that I would go back. I didn't think they heard me. They were pre-occupied in their own minds. As soon as I arrived home, mom was waiting for me at the door. She must have been waiting for me there since she found out I went to the hospital because of the snow on her hair.

I hurried outside my car and did what I thought I needed most. I ran to her and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around me and rubbed my back, attempting to pacify the storm inside me. I told her everything and she understood.

That was why she always took me out, to keep me away from feeling the pain. It didn't work out that much, because I always thought of Mikan—wherever I go, whenever I go. Because I didn't want to be away from her while she lived. I hadn't thought of how I would accept the fact that she was slowly slipping away from this world, but not in my heart.

* * *

I went to their house two days before Christmas. Mikan called me and said she was going to tell me something important.

I rang the doorbell and Yuka answered. She opened the door, dark circles under her exhausted eyes. She gave me a weak smile and let me in. Mumbling about getting me a chocolate drink, I excused myself to go to the guest room where they moved Mikan. It was easier to move her from there.

I was about to knock, but the door was open. The first thing that greeted me was a wheelchair where she sat now when wasn't in bed. An oxygen tank stood beside her bed and some medical apparatuses that I didn't bother myself knowing were there, too. It was as if she was still in the hospital, except that the room wasn't all white.

She was looking outside the window when I came in. She quickly averted her eyes towards me and patted the spot beside her bed. She removed the thing that was covering her mouth.

"Are you going to break up with me now?" I asked I sat beside her. She rolled her eyes. "I was just kidding."

"I know," said Mikan. "I was hoping to drop that line first, though."

"Not a chance," I kissed her forehead.

She scrunched her face and worry flooded over me. But she waved her hand. "I'm trying to remember this feeling. I don't want it to disappear."

Yuka entered, carrying a silver tray. I stood up and took the tray and placed it on the table beside Mikan. She walked to the door, but turned around and stared at me and then to Mikan. For a moment I thought she was going to say something because she opened her lips, but she just nodded and closed the door.

"They're always like that," Mikan mumbled.

"They're worried," I told her. I drank the chocolate drink Yuka gave me in one take and then went back to Mikan.

Half of her body was concealed by the blanket but it didn't hide that she lost a considerable amount of weight. The skin on her face sagged on inappropriate places and her lips were chapped. Still, she was my Mikan. The great love of my life.

"I love you so much," the words escaped my lips before I realized they did. But I didn't regret saying them.

"And I love you, too." Mikan closed her eyes and leaned her head on my arm that was resting on the pillow.

"So what were you going to tell me?" The thing was I didn't want her to close her eyes. I was afraid she would let go.

"Right, good thing you reminded me," she heaved her eyes back to the open and looked at me. "Because you know, I don't have much time—no, just listen to me Natsume—left, I am going to tell you a secret. I want to tell you this because I . . . I want to remember why I had the chance to meet you.

"You remember that I came from Paris, right? And that I was there because my grandmother wanted me to be there? Yes, of course, well the thing is—that's not entirely true."

She stared hard, waiting for the expression of surprise that came in time and left quickly.

"The truth is when I was six I was diagnosed with this sickness. I had a bad heart. It ran in the family, but it skipped Mom. At that time, Mom didn't earn much. We lived by but her salary wasn't enough to cover my hospital bills. Grandma didn't like my dad, so she cut off her connections with us. But when Grandma found out about my Mom dating Hiro, who of course passed her tastes, she relived the connections with Mom, eventually knowing that I was in sick.

"So Grandma took me and even though Mom didn't like the idea, she didn't have any choice because Grandma was willing to pay for all the medical bills, have me treated and supply everything I needed. She was a good woman, but was too blinded by her career. Anyway she took me and I went there. I got the best treatments there and I learned how to play the piano, which I loved best before I met _you_. But it was lonely because I missed Mom and Hiro and Tsubasa.

"While there, I thought I would never be able to see them again because Grandma wouldn't let them visit me or me come back to Japan. She wanted me there and because she's sick, too, the further her want to keep me beside her. You'd think she'd never die because she's strong . . . headstrong and her heart didn't show any signs of failure for months. I hated her actually.

"Then one day when I was in school, the principal called me to say that Grandma was in the hospital. You know what my first thoughts were?"

I shook my head.

She smiled bitterly and went on. "I thanked God because I would be free. I was going to be free from her grasp. It didn't matter if I was still sick; at least I'll be back to my family here in Japan. I will get to see Mom, Tsubasa, Hiro, and unknowingly you. I thought her disease finally got to her. But when I got to the hospital, I found out that it wasn't her disease that killed her.

"The police said that she was probably on her way to the school when someone shot her. The bullet wasn't meant for her. The thief shot another person, but he was able to run and it went pass through Grandma's head. So you see . . ." she began crying, her tears sliding down her bony cheeks. "You see, she wasn't meant to die . . . but she did because I—I wished f-for it. She didn't fight for her life, b-because she knew I d-didn't like it there a-anymore."

"No, Mikan—shh—it's not your fault," my arms found their way around her. It occurred to me how skinny she went in just a few days.

"I love her Natsume, but she loved me more. She was alone there and ever since I arrived at her home, all I wanted was to go home. I'm not a good person as how you thought me to be. So I'm sorry."

I nodded and repeatedly said that I understood her and that she was forgiven. But Mikan wasn't apologizing to me. She was apologizing to _her_. To her grandmother. And it struck me that this . . . this was how Mikan accepted death, and the death of a loved one.

* * *

Christmas came and I only visited Mikan in their house for a couple of hours after dusk on the twenty-fourth of December. I dropped by to give them my gifts. I gave Tsubasa a perfume, Yuka a flimsy orange shawl (my Mom chose it), and I gave Hiro a signature cap. I bought two gifts for Mikan. The first one was a book entitled 'Kafka On The Shore' and the second was a big bouquet of flowers. I handed them to her in her room since she couldn't get out of the bed anymore.

I thought of the chance that she wouldn't be able to read the book anymore, but damn to my chances, I still gave it to her. She said she loved them, and would even love them more if she could read the book at once before the meds they gave her took her to sleep.

"Happy Christmas, Natsume," she muttered. "I love you . . . I really do."

Running my fingers through her hair, I replied, "I know, I know. I do, too."

"You'll remember me, right?"

"Of course."

"I won't see you, but you will tell me how your Christmas went, yes?"

"Yes. I will come here on 26th."

"And promise me—" her eyes were only halfway open then.

"W-what?" I choked.

"That you'll live . . ."

"Hey, I'm not the sick one."

She shook her head weakly as her lips tugged upwards. "No. That you'll live after everything."

I fought them back. I fought the swelling in my throat, the hotness at the back of my eyes. "We'll live. No matter what, it's still gonna be me and you."

"Oh and here's my third gift," bending gently towards her, I shadowed over her face and placed my lips on top of hers. They were dry and unlike the lips I first kissed before. But it was still the same feeling—that exceptional warm sensation spreading over my chest and back and up to my head.

And this time, with our eyes closed, our lips said our feelings.

"That's . . . not bad," Mikan murmured before she finally fell into her drowsiness.

I went home after then. Just like any other common person, I celebrated the Christmas that year. I didn't go to Mikan's and I didn't call her, because her family needed her this time and she needed them. And my family needed me.

So I stayed inside our house and spent my Christmas with my family. I figured I would just go to her the next day. I'd sit beside her on her bed and tell her how my Christmas went. She would want to hear it, she said. I would tell her that it was good, that I got more gifts than last year and that I didn't believe in Santa but I had a good feeling that we'll get to spend her birthday together. And we, _together_, will wish for more years for her at New Year's Eve.

That was a good plan.

But then again, plans are never good.

An hour after sleep found me, my phone rang. It was Tsubasa. I said hello, but it took a few dead seconds before he answered.

At the end of his line, he choked. When he finally spoke, his voice quivered, built on the crumbling foundation of his emotions. "I'm sorry, Natsume," he let out a wail that even though my phone left the safety of my hand, I could still hear him . . . until I couldn't discern anymore if it was him or me.

* * *

A/n: The next chapter will be the last one. I hope you'll hang on to my story before it ends.


	10. T E N : EPILOGUE

**A Paper and String**

"_Love was a story that couldn't compare..."  
_- Mayday Parade

* * *

**TEN: EPILOGUE**

* * *

The stars flickered brightly against the clear shade of darkness on the night Mikan died. It was on the 26th of December, an hour after everybody in their home was peacefully tucked in their beds. She had convinced them that she was going to be fine, and that by any chance she felt something she would just ring the bell atop her bedside drawer to wake them up. She probably felt all sorts—the pain might have been more excruciating or maybe just a pinch only—but she never rang the bell. She didn't want them to know that she knew she would be taking her last breath.

Had it not for Tsubasa, who awoke to get a drink and detoured to check up on Mikan, the stillness of the house wouldn't have been broken. It was his scream of plead on the early hours of that day that woke up their parents.

Fighting what's in front of them, they rushed her limp body to the hospital, but they were too late. She had stopped breathing minutes ago and heart had ceased beating. Her fight for her life was done and there was nothing they or the doctors or I could do.

All these, Tsubasa told me during the phone call; his heavy and full of self-loathing voice punctuated by either a hiccup or a cry from time to time.

Even when he hung up, I still held my phone close to my ears, thinking that he would call back and say that he was misinformed, that her sister . . . that my girlfriend . . . that Mikan was dead. I was clinging onto a futile sense of hope that I would hear a voice . . . her voice . . . and tell me that everything was just a terrible joke or a reparable misunderstanding, because I was willing to forgive and forget.

But no one called me again. There was no other voice but my voice. There was nothing to forgive and nothing could be forgotten.

And then I thought of all about that had happened, and all that could have. And I remembered hearing her voice, and failing to remember a future when I would no longer hear her anymore. And I thought of the days when she would smile and tell me that I was not a bad person, that I was more than just an OK . . . that she loved me. But now that she was gone, she would never say those words again. And the tears fell. And they didn't stop. Because I couldn't stop them. Because I couldn't stop thinking about Mikan.

I could never stop the hurting. I hadn't accepted that she would die. I wanted her here and tell her that I wasn't ready to let go. Our time was too short-lived.

But maybe I was dreaming, so I thought about sleeping. I shut my eyes tight and imagined that tomorrow when I wake up, I would do everything I did before I go to Mikan's house. When I'm there, I would enter her room and she would be smiling at me.

But _he_ was not smiling. _He_ was worried as _he_ stepped inside my room and took a seat on the edge of my bed.

"Natsume, is everything alright? Is there anything I can do?" my father asked in a way different from his usual business tone. His dead-beat eyes were looking at me apprehensively. He always stayed up late and worked, but he's always been understanding and kind.

Averting my tear-strewn face from him, I ducked my head. My raven wisps stuck on my forehead as I shook my head, unable to make out a proper answer from the sudden absence of anything but only the great heavy feeling in my chest; and half because the only answer which I could think of—'Dad, nothing is alright,'—was too unbearable for me to say.

He didn't say anything until slowly, I raised my head. His eyebrows furrowed and a sigh escaped his lips. Something in the way he was looking at me made me realize how lost I was now. The hurt doubled, or even tripled, and my hand reached up to cover my face. My hand met the tears. My eyes hurt, but it couldn't compare to the inside.

"Oh son," he closed the gap between us and reached for my back. "Let it all out," he kept on saying as he embraced me. But I didn't know how I was supposed to let everything out. An invisible thread was wrapped around my neck and it tightened itself every agonizing second that passed. I was choking from the hundred unsaid words that were fighting their way up my throat, but could never escape my lips. There were too many feelings and nothing could be said.

The light from outside flooded my room as the door creaked open. Mom and Aoi stood outside, small tears leaking from their eyes. I knew they were sad for me. But I was alone in this kind of grief.

My father glanced at them and then back to me. "We love you very much, Natsume. If you want to go to her right now, I'll drive you. It's alright son."

The thought of seeing her right now didn't occur to me. I wasn't ready yet . . . but then how would I figure it out?

"J-just drop me off," I replied, pulling the hem of my shirt up and wiped my face.

"Whenever you're ready," he stood up and went outside to Mom and Aoi. He closed the door and I was consumed by the dark realm of solitude once more.

* * *

The funeral was held on the afternoon of January 1st, six days after Mikan died. It was also her seventeenth birthday.

Tsubasa was against holding the funeral today; he insisted to have it two days ago. But Hiro said that Mikan would have wanted it to be today. He said that a few months back when he drove Mikan from the hospital, she mentioned about wanting to have the same birth and death anniversary. She was bad with remembering dates and only noted some. And since she didn't reach her birthday, the least they could give her was granting her funeral on her birthday.

The overcast sky was bluish gray and the grounds were covered in snow. The cemetery was a lonely sight of white and brown and old to fancy looking gray stones. When we got out of the car, my family directed themselves to chairs where a mass of people dressed in black stayed. I chose to walk towards the impeccably white coffin lying a meter above the ground.

Tsubasa was standing before Mikan's head, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edges of the coffin. It took Misaki a thread of lines to ease him to sit on the chairs in front. One look and anyone could see that he was going to give up. Meanwhile, Yuka and Hiro were simply standing in front of Mikan, gazing at her last moments. Yuka clung to Hiro as if she, too, was going to buckle on her knees. There was no doubt she was.

When they saw me, they stepped a little away to give me some space. And there, Mikan looked as if she was just sleeping, although her face was so cosmetically white. She didn't move or anything. She was just lying down, wearing a white sleeveless dress that reached her knees. Her hair, a soft color of brown, was let down beside her face. And then it occurred to me—that this was the last image of her that I could imprint on my memory. So I took in everything, drinking her in my mind like I was hoarding her. But that didn't make me feel any better. I started crying again.

The ceremony started a few minutes later, but all I could think of right now was to run to the girl inside that white casket, and never let go of her. I didn't want them to keep her in the dark. Before I knew it, however, she was being rolled down to the open earth.

We were ushered to close in around the perimeter of her final setting and made to throw the white rose we held on for so long. When it was my turn, I raised the rose where a folded piece of paper was tied on its trunk. I looked at the coffin and then to the paper and thought that this was the last piece of the living me that I could give her. This was me coming with her. My last gift . . .

And I threw it. The others after me followed. In my mind, I was thinking of how this was the ultimate revenge anyone who hated me could accomplish. And yet this was not revenge. And Mikan loved me.

After she was covered by the soil, I stayed behind until I was the last person in the cemetery. Before the Sakuras reluctantly left, they approached me. Hiro and Yuka both said that they appreciated me and were thankful to have me in their and Mikan's lives.

"You might not have been ours biologically, but you have become our son, too, Natsume. You have been an essential part of our lives," said Hiro, offering me a genuine smile.

Yuka nodded beside him, hugging me before they left.

"She loved you man, really," Tsubasa walked to me and inserted his hands in his pockets.

"I know. I still feel the same."

A cold breeze gushed between us—like a cold river floating on the air while a soft melody played behind it. Tsubasa peered at the mound of earth and then back to me.

"Right, well I gotta go. See you at school," he said before turning around to their parked car where Yuka and Hiro and Misaki waited.

I spun around to the small hill of soil, stood beside it and talked to her.

_This is it Mikan. You're finally there and gone before my eyes. The truth is I don't know to accept that because God, I love you so much. I've told you so many times and I'm not afraid to say them over and over and over again. _

_Mikan, thank you. I am so thankful that I met you . . . that you decided to come into my life. There are others out there, but you chose me. Tomorrow when I wake up, it won't be the same. And just, I don't know. But you will be looking over me, right? Because even if I can't see you anymore, I will always look for you. Everything we have done will become memories, but I will always look over my shoulder and wait for you, for that one day when I'll see you again. I just know that we will meet again someday, and then I will never let you go._

_I will keep on going. I may not be ready to accept you leaving me, but I will someday. But even then, I will still love you. I will keep on going, because no matter what, it's still you and me._

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**A/n:** This is it! I have finally completed a story and I'm feeling so happy right now. The truth is I don't know if I had managed to jerk a tear from someone out there, but I hope I did. I was almost close to giving up, but there's just always something that draws me and all of you out there to writing and/or reading Gakuen Alice fan-fictions. Thank you to everyone who has read and supported and reviewed this story! I love you all x

_Angel  
_


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